The Captive and the Coward
by LyricalKris
Summary: The lives of the highborn citizens of the realm are subject to tide of power that flows around them. When a match is made between Edward,son of the most powerful man in the kingdom, and Bella, highborn prisoner of the crown held hostage after her family's betrayal, neither party can refuse. It's not an ideal match for either the traumatized Lady nor the black sheep of Masen House.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So! As will become readily apparent to anyone who watches, this premise-and much of the world-has heavy influence from Game of Thrones. It will not follow the same storyline, and it's not set in Westeros, but it's set in a world very much like Westeros. I'm sure you'll recognize the characters.**

 **A note to my readers waiting for my other fics to update-they're all coming along. They're just talking to me in lurches and lulls instead of full chapters. It's just been one of those weeks for me. Bleh. So in the meantime, here's something new to chew on.**

* * *

Edward felt ill as he looked over the scroll his father had given him. His stomach churned, and his heart pounded. He looked up to find his father staring at him, his gaze ever cold and even. Calculating as only Aro of House Masen could be.

"Even you must see how cruel this is, Father," Edward said, already fighting to keep his cool. He was going to lose this argument. He knew this because he'd been losing arguments to his father all of his thirty-four years. But he was a stubborn ass, and he had to try. In fact, it had never been more important.

Aro cocked his head. "Cruel?"

"Isabella Swan has been a prisoner of this family for almost two years."

His father scoffed. "So she has. And each day of her imprisonment, she's worn fine gowns, slept on feather beds, and been attended to by lady's servants." He scratched his cheek absently. "She has one of her own, does she not?"

Now it was Edward who scoffed. "Don't play dumb, Father. It's beneath you. My dear nephew, our beloved king, has made it his personal quest to make that girl's life a living hell since he had her father's head chopped off before her very eyes."

Aro's eyes had narrowed—a face Edward was intimately acquainted with, given that he had never, in his memory, made his father anything but vexed. "You're close to treason, boy, and you will mind your tongue around the Hand of the King."

Edward poured wine into the goblet his father had left for him, and sat back in his chair. "Felix— my nephew, your grandson, our king—is a sadist, and Isabella has been his favorite toy. My sister did not stop her son. My brother did not stop his nephew. Isabella is a very sweet girl, but she hates this family. With good reason. If you wish to hang me for telling the truth, well…" He drank. "I doubt I could stop you."

His father's cheek twitched. "His Grace's treatment of the girl is unfortunate. He had a zeal to prove to his people what he thought of her father and brothers' politics, and he took it out on perhaps the most innocent of House Swan." Aro smiled—the smile he used when he was patronizing diplomats. He leaned forward and tapped the scroll. "Luckily, we have a solution. Make her a Masen. The king has no quarrel with his mother's house."

Edward struggled not to grind his teeth. "She has been shamed enough."

"You think there's shame in our name?"

Edward raised his gaze to meet his father's eyes. "Must we play this game? Marry the captive to me? The Coward?"

His father's smile faltered. "You were a very young man when you earned that name. Your nephew has given you a place on his council as a trusted advisor and keeper of his coins. You are serving your king well, and he is pleased with you."

"The king hates me as much as he hates Lady Isabella."

"He is pleased with your services, and he has given you a wife," Aro continued as though he hadn't spoken. "To be a married man is honorable."

"I've chosen to remain unmarried."

Aro's calm broke. He slammed his fist on the table, shaking the wine. "That choice was never yours to make. I've indulged your infantile ways long enough, and I shall indulge them no further. You're highborn, Edward, and well educated enough to know you will marry because it is your duty to do so. Your brother is promised to the King's Guard. After we lost your eldest brother in the war, you had to know what it would come to. You are the only one left to carry on our name, and you will do it. I shouldn't have to sit here and reason with you as though you haven't always known what's expected of you."

Yes, he had expected it. Without his assistance, his family's name would die, and he had always known his father would never let that happen. "Fine," he said, his voice low. He finished off his wine. "I will marry anyone you care to throw at me. But not Isabella. The girl has been through enough."

Aro stood and leaned over the table, leveling Edward with a malevolent glare. "You will both do as you're told for the good of the realm. It's done, Edward. If you choose to leave and shirk your duty, you will do it without my money, and I will make it known that any who aids you does so at my displeasure. Do I make myself clear?"

Felix might have been king, but Edward knew well Aro of House Masen was the most powerful man in the realm and the richest. If he displeased his father, there would be nowhere for him to turn.

He picked up the flagon of wine and poured. "Yes, Father."

 _ **~0~**_

Volterra was beautiful. From her window, Bella could see the sweeping city and the sea beyond.

She never thought she would miss her home. She'd been brought up knowing she would not remain there, that she would be married as best suited her family or the realm's needs. Just under two years ago, she'd believed that somehow—impossibly—she would be high queen to handsome Prince Felix's high king.

She'd thought he was so charming.

"My lady?"

Bella closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She raised her chin, casting off darker thoughts to turn to her lady's maid, Angela. "What is it?" she asked, her voice as her mother had taught her; gentle, kind, and in this case, honest. Angela was the one true friend she had in Volterra.

Angela bowed. "You have a visitor."

As she was decent, Bella nodded. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to play the game.

It was Edward Masen who entered her quarters. Only long practice kept the surprise from her face. As the Masens went, she could do worse. He'd stopped Felix more than once, when the newly crowned king was having her beaten for her brother's crimes against the crown. Still, she would never trust a person of that house.

Edward swept low in a bow. "Lady Isabella."

"Lord Edward, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He studied her for a moment, and there was something about the sadness in his eyes that made Bella profoundly nervous. He sighed. "My Lady." He glanced at Angela. "Do you think we might have a word in private?"

Her heart began to pound hard, and she had to swallow several times before she answered. No part of her wanted to be alone with anyone in the capital city of Volterra. But she nodded. "Of course, My Lord. Won't you join me on the verandah? Angela, won't you bring us some refreshments?"

They went outside. Once there, Edward seemed to have lost his words. He looked off to the horizon, just as she had done only minutes before. He sighed. "You and I know much about following orders, don't we, My Lady?"

"I'm sorry? I don't follow."

"No." He gave a rough laugh and looked to her. "I'm sure you don't." His eyes swept over her, assessing. "How old are you Lady Isabella?"

Bella took a small step backward. Her throat tightened. "Seventeen tomorrow."

He winced, and looked skyward. "Seventeen. Half my own age."

"My Lord?"

He turned his back to the sea and faced her. "I wanted you to hear this from me, My Lady. My father, the Hand of the King, has given your hand in marriage."

Bella took a steadying breath. She was a pawn, and she knew that. She had always known this day would come. Honestly, if it meant she could finally leave Volterra, it may well be worth it. Marriage wasn't quite the same as being held captive. "To whom am I pledged?"

His expression softened to one of sympathy. "To me," he said, very quietly.

Bella took another step backward. She feared her knees would buckle, so she sat. "Oh," she said—a whisper. "Oh, I see."

"It was not by my request," he said. She raised her head, and he raised a hand. "Which is not to say you displease me in the slightest." He winced at that and ran a hand through his hair. "But I cannot imagine I please you."

Bella breathed in through her nose, trying to think of what she could possibly say. She was on guard as she must always be. She wouldn't have been surprised if he came at her then and demanded what would be rightfully his to take soon enough. She watched him for long moments and waited.

He merely sat there, watching her with sorrow in his eyes.

She took another breath and raised her head. She knew her part. She had learned it well these last two years. "Of course it would please me to be your wife, My Lord. It's an honor I could not have imagined to be taken into the fold of House Masen." She forced a smile.

His lips twitched. "Lady Isabella, you don't need to play those games with me."

"I mean every word I say, My Lord," she lied. "It would be an honor to be your wife."

He studied her for another long moment and then he stood. He offered a hand. Bella could only hope that he couldn't feel how she trembled as she put her hand in his. She braced herself. Would he pull her to him?

But he only raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles with a gentle gesture. "Believe me when I say, My Lady, that the honor is most certainly mine."

He left then as Angela came back. When she was alone with her Lady's Maid, she sunk to her knees and put her hands over her eyes, shaking badly.

That was it, then. The last hope she had of leaving this wretched city and the clutches of the family she loathed.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you to Mina, Packy, Eleanor, Songster, JessyPT, and MoH for putting up with me and for always being so excited. They make my docs a delightful place.**

 **Thoughts? Questions?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Frequently asked questions.**

 **This fic doesn't take place in the real world. It takes place in a fake world that is NOT Westeros, but is very much like Westeros.**

 **You don't have to watch or know Game of Thrones to read this. A lot of you haven't watched Game of Thrones! Heheh.**

 **Edward is not a dwarf.**

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The day before his wedding, Edward found himself in the empty sept. As a rule, he liked septs. Not because he found any kind of comfort in the idea of gods. Septs were peaceful, and each of them told so much of their city's history. He liked history. He liked books and learning.

Such a conundrum. Had he been lowborn, he would have had no time for his books, for knowledge. Yet, as a lowborn, he would not be a political pawn, either—a piece in this game of kings and allegiances.

Duty. All his life, his duty had been dictated. As a young man, a sword had been shoved in his hand, and he was told it was his duty to kill men. Trouble was, at the time, he understood what those men were fighting for and why. He simply hadn't believed those men deserved to die.

So, he'd run. The son of one of the most powerful men in the realm, and he'd run from battle. The story they told—which, in the way of stories, had been twisted out of hand—was that he'd been too scared. Too scared to spill his noble blood. Too scared to fight for the House of Masen.

Ah, well. It had given him freedom for a time. His father had wanted him out of his sight and, as a result, he'd ended up traveling the realm. It made him good at his role on the King's council where he played Master of Coin and, therefore, advisor. Occasionally, his father—who was the one really running the kingdom if anyone was paying attention—had to admit his advice was sound, even good.

Likely, it was how good he was in his position that pushed his father to find him a bride once and for all. It was, as he'd said, the respectable thing to do. Then, he had the problem of the Swan girl. Daughter of a traitor, sister to a man fighting the king's rule, she was a politically powerful piece on the board game. Anyone at court, though, knew she was also King Felix's favorite plaything, and that the king had a cruel streak as wide as the sea.

It was a brilliant strategy on his father's part, Edward had to admit. Marry Bella Swan into the house of Emmett Swan's greatest enemy. Because Edward was bound here to the capital city of Volterra, so they would have an excuse to keep her here, and out of King Felix's clutches at the same time.

Well, there was some small mercy there.

Steady footfalls came toward him, and Edward struggled not to roll his eyes. He recognized his sister's regal gait. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid these last few days.

"Hello, Jane," he greeted without looking at her. "I see you've come to gloat. I had wondered how much of this was your idea."

"My idea?" His sister laughed as she came to sit next to him. "Little brother, I'm a woman. I have no control over the realm."

He scoffed. What Jane wanted had a tendency to come to pass one way or another. Including the recent death of her husband, the king before Felix. He strongly suspected she had brought the unfortunate lout's death, but hell if he could prove it. Jane was devious and dangerous. She had far too much control.

Though not, unfortunately, of her eldest, maniacal son.

"Father made you a match far better than you deserve," Jane said.

"Oh, yes. For once, sister, I'm certain that your hatred of that girl outweighs your hatred of me. Why is that, by the by? I'd always wondered. She's a child. She hasn't had time to do anything to you."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Jane said, her voice cold now. "I have no reason to hate the girl. After all, her parentage isn't her fault." She sat up straighter. "And as I've said, I had nothing to do with the match."

"I'm sure."

"Besides, she is not so much of a child."

"Compared to me?"

Jane shrugged. "A man may marry as he pleases." There was bitterness in her tone. "I think the most I've seen is thirty-three years between a husband and his bride. He could have been her grandsire."

"And I could have been Isabella's father."

Jane smirked. "Well, as luck would have it, you were not. Else it would have been your head on a spike, now wouldn't it have?"

She would have liked that, and they both knew it.

"Do cheer up, little brother. Marriage is the business we must all make. You're a man. You will still be free to leave a trail of bastards across the countryside so long as you remember to give your wife a child every now and again."

Edward shuddered. "As though she is a brood mare." He shook his head. "Not all men are like your late husband. I will honor my vows. She deserves that much."

"You speak as though you will be a terrible husband."

Edward grunted, looking out over the empty space. "I will be the best husband I can." He straightened up, knowing he couldn't play this game with his sister. She would use his words against him if she could. "But nothing about this is what young girls dream of, is it? The wedding is being rushed, so there will be no frills." He blew out a breath, his heart aching for her. "She's alone here, without a single member of her family."

Jane's face lit with a devilish gleam Edward recognized. "She will have a new family soon. Tomorrow, I will attend to her myself."

"No." Edward's voice was loud in the empty chamber. He narrowed his eyes at his sister.

She looked affronted. "As you say, her mother is far from her, and—"

"And you are not her mother. Not even close. That girl is terrified of you."

Despite the mask she put up, Jane's eyes gleamed with unmistakable pleasure at the idea. "She is perhaps intimidated by my title, but—"

"Your former title. You are not a queen any longer, and you know damn well that's not what I mean. She is terrified of you, and with good reason." Edward stood and looked down at his sister. "If any good comes out of this marriage, let it be this. Isabella is to be my wife, and she is under my protection. I don't want you, Alec, or any of your children near her. Is that clear?"

Jane scowled. "You've always been melodramatic, little brother."

"This from a woman who hates me because our mother died giving birth to me? As though I murdered her from within the womb. And you despise this seventeen-year-old child for gods know what reasons." He shook his head. "No, sister. I'm not the melodramatic one in our family, and to date, I'm also not the most dangerous. What I'm telling you, Jane, is that if you go near my wife again, if you seek to intimidate or otherwise torment her, you will find out just how dangerous I can be."

Jane glowered, but after a moment, her wicked grin returned and she nodded her head. "As you wish." Her smiled deepened. "Though, of course, I have no control over the king."

 _ **~0~**_

Bella woke before dawn on her wedding day. She rose and stepped out on her balcony, looking not to the sea but to the north, toward her home city of Rainfall. Toward the tattered remains of her family.

Would news of her marriage reach her mother and brother? They were the only ones she knew for certain were still alive. She looked to the north and wished they were with her now.

Since she was imagining things anyway, she made up a scenario where they would be pleased with her match, where her husband wasn't among those who wanted them dead. She imagined her mother's steady hand as she brushed her hair until it was tangle free and shiny.

Renee was sweet and kind. She would sooth Bella's nerves and spin beautiful tales about how happy she would be with her new husband. He was a good man. He'd have to be, or her parents would not have consented to the match.

Then again, her parents had consented to her original match with Felix—the reason she had been brought to Volterra with her father in the first place. Though no part of her thought he would have let the marriage go through. Not if he knew what the king was really like.

No, if her father was alive and her mother and brothers were here, she would be marrying a handsome young lord. Her eldest brother would come in to tease her. He would make ribald remarks, and their mother would scold him. Emmett was ever the joker, and he loved to make her blush.

She still had trouble thinking of him leading an army against House Volturi. Many of the northern kingdoms called him King. Bella wouldn't have believed Emmett could be serious for that long, except that she had been beaten in punishment of nearly every one of his victories.

Would it be her husband's job to beat her now? Edward had saved her when he could, but would it be different behind closed doors?

"My Lady?"

Bella turned to the doorway where Angela waited. She stood up straighter when she saw another woman behind her. An older woman whom Bella had seen about the castle. Not noble, but the wife of the highest ranking Alchemist who sat on the inner council. Esme, she believed.

Esme came forward. Her smile was gentle, and she gave a small curtsey as she came before Bella. "Good day, My Lady. Your husband asked that I attend to you."

"Oh, Madam. I'm sure you have much else to do."

"Lord Edward asked the king to allow your mother to attend your wedding. The king would not allow it, of course, so Edward thought you might like _someone's_ mother if you cannot have your own." Her eyes were sympathetic and her tone soft as she spoke. "I had a child who is now grown to a man. A fine young man. His bride was likewise motherless on her wedding day, and I attended her with great joy. It would be my honor to attend to you."

Bella's throat was tight. She nodded. "If it's no burden," she said.

"None at all, My Lady."

"Please, call me Bella," Bella said, following both Esme and Angela inside. "Did Lord Edward really request the king allow my mother into the capital?"

Esme brightened. "Yes, he did." She reached out and tentatively took Bella's hands in hers. "You have no reason to love anyone in this family. Hush now," she said before Bella could protest. "There's no need for you to be on guard with me." She smiled over at Angela. "And I know your maid is trustworthy."

"Of course, Madam," Angela said, nodding fervently.

Esme looked back to Bella. "Trust that I bear no love for either ruling house, Volturi or Masen. Neither does your husband, the gods bless him. He has been the black sheep all his life. A stain as far as his father is concerned. Against all odds, he grew up kind and wise." She cupped Bella's cheek. "He will make a good husband, My Lady. I would bet my life on it."

Bella searched the woman's face, searching for some sign of trickery. She saw none, and despite her better judgement, hope welled in her.

"Bella, you have endured an ordeal beyond which no one should be forced. Yet despite the cruelty shown you, you've remained sweet and good. Your mother would be so proud of you."

At that, Bella's eyes welled with tears. She ducked her head to hide them. "I...thank you," she whispered.

Esme gathered her close, and Bella allowed herself to cling to the woman as she would her own mother. She wrapped her arms about her waist and laid her head on her breast.

"There now, child," Esme said, stroking her hair. "I know it may not seem so, but I think you and Lord Edward are a fine match, well made for each other. You may yet have a beautiful life." She pulled back and took Bella's face in her hands, wiping away her tears with the pads of her thumbs. "And my goodness—can you imagine how darling your babies will be? Between your face and his, they will be the most beautiful children in all the realm."

Bella's cheeks flushed hot, and she ducked her head. Despite herself—her nerves at what kind of a husband he would be behind closed doors—she felt some pleasure at the idea. Hope burned brighter.

 _ **~0~**_

Some hours later, Bella was as ready as she was ever going to be. She had been bathed in fragrant oils. Her hair had been brushed to a fine sheen and was piled elegantly on her head. Her dress, while not as resplendent as it might have been had she wed Felix as was originally planned, was fine and hung on her beautifully.

She looked at herself in the full-length mirror and thought her heart might pound out of her chest. So it had finally come—her wedding day. This was the role she had been raised to play—to be wife to a lord.

There was a knock at the door. Bella closed her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't light-headed and nervous. Perhaps this wasn't the happiest day of her life as it was meant to be, but she had some hope now that some happiness might come of this. At least, as his uncle's wife, she would be safe from the hands of—

"Is the Lady ready?"

Bella froze, a jolt of pure fear going down her back. She swung away from the mirror and looked to where the king had been admitted into her room. She clenched her hands in fists at her side. "Your Grace," she said, sinking into a curtsey automatically even as her mind reeled.

He was promised to someone else, and King though he was, he could not break his solemn oath. This could not be some trick where he took Bella as his wife instead, could it?

King Felix let his eyes travel the length of her body. As she always did, Bella felt filthy, as though he knew what she looked like in only her skin. He smiled. His smile was always a leer. "Come, My Lady. You don't want to be late on this happiest of occasions."

"You're right, Your Grace. I will see you presently in the Great Sept."

If anything, Felix's leer only deepened. "Foolish girl. I'm here to walk with you. Who else did you think would give you away to your new husband, seeing as your father got himself beheaded?"

He said the words as though he were making a joke, and Bella's stomach churned. He was the one who had given the order, and after he had promised Bella he would show mercy. Now he was here to take her father's place on her wedding day. She wanted to scream with the injustice of it.

Instead, she nodded. "I didn't believe I was worthy of such an honor." She took the arm he offered and glanced only briefly at Angela and Esme. They wore tight smiles, and their eyes were dark with sympathy.

Both women attempted to follow them, but Felix quickly put a stop to that. "Both of you should run to find a seat. The Sept is quite crowded today. Apparently, the wedding of a coward and a traitor's daughter is a spectacle to behold." He chuckled. "Away with you."

They both curtseyed. "Your Grace."

Then, Bella was alone with Felix in the hallways of the palace. For almost two years now, Bella had tried her best never to be alone with the king. She concentrated on keeping her gait steady, lest he take the moment to prey on her fear.

He was in his most charming mode, bantering about the plans that had been made for her, the banquet that was to be held in her honor. Bella murmured her pleasure where it was required. Felix liked to be congratulated for his benevolence when he showed any small act of kindness. As though his grandfather would have let anyone say the crown threw a lousy wedding.

Just as they turned down the main hallway leading to the Great Sept, Felix said, "I'm sure you wish your family was here with you."

Bella stiffened ever so slightly. All conversations with Felix had to be carefully navigated but none so much as when he spoke of her family. "Of course, despite their many crimes against you, Your Grace, I still bear love for my family. That part of me does wish they were here to celebrate this happy day. However, I am loyal to the crown. That part of me is glad they will not foul this place with their traitorous presence."

As always, when she had to utter such horrible things, Bella made a silent plea of forgiveness to her family. She thought of each of them in turn, and her heart wrenched with the ache of missing them. How much she longed to be with them, any of them, again.

"Well, it is said that the dead watch over us. Perhaps they are here in spirit."

Bella's step faltered. " _They_ , Your Grace?"

"Your father and mother at least." They stopped outside the doors to the Great Sept, and Bella looked at him with unadulterated horror. His grin turned malicious and gleeful. "I got the raven just this morning. Your mother was killed in the last battle your brother fought. She was stabbed, you see. In the back. They say it took her hours to die."

Bella gaped in pure horror, unable to say anything or even move.

"So you see, your parents will be with you on your wedding day," Felix said, his tone serene. "Come. We wouldn't want to keep your guests waiting."

With that, he pushed open the doors of the sept, and pulled her into the room, down the aisle.

* * *

 **A/N: How're you doing?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Concentrating on ofic edits, which is why you're getting another dose of this one again in lieu of one of my other fics. :)**

 **SO! Most of us don't like Felix, huh? I have no idea why not. *blinks***

* * *

It was a beautiful ceremony, and his bride was beyond anything Edward could have imagined for himself. When he saw Isabella there on Felix's arm, his breath caught. Perhaps her gown had gone out of popular fashion years before, but in his eyes, she was resplendent.

As for Isabella, she seemed shell-shocked. Her face was drained of color, and all during the ceremony, she seemed blank and vacant. She followed instructions well enough, but her voice was toneless. Her kiss, when they sealed their vows, was cold.

Well, it was to be expected. Or so he thought until it occurred to him that something was very wrong. More wrong than usual, in any event. If there was one thing Isabella knew well, it was how to play this game. She knew her role, whether that of faithful subject or happy bride. Her life depended on her playing her role without faltering. It was one of the things he'd always admired about his now-wife. That she'd figured out so swiftly after her father's death that her survival depended on her vigilance.

She was anything but vigilant tonight. She hadn't touched much of the feast prepared on their honor, and she only nodded when well-wishers stopped by their table.

Edward bent his head closer to hers. "My Lady."

Isabella flinched and cringed away from him. The movement stung, and he took a careful breath, making sure his tone was soft when he spoke again. "Won't you have something to eat? Just a bite?"

She looked at him only briefly and picked up her fork. She served herself a little of the roast and a few green beans. For a long moment, she stared at her meager plate before she blanched. "I...I'm sorry, My Lord. I fear if I try to eat this, it will only come back up again."

He furrowed his brow. "What troubles you?" he asked, his voice even quieter now. Again, she cringed. She was either afraid or disgusted by him. Disheartening to say the least. Was it their wedding night she feared? Surely, she could not think he would be monstrous to her.

The way she looked at him then wasn't frightened. For an instant, he thought he saw pure rage in her eyes. She was angry with him. But why? Hadn't he told her this wedding wasn't what he would have wanted for her? Hadn't he told her this was no more his choice than hers?

Before either of them could speak to this, King Felix stood. "Friends!" he shouted in his booming voice. "Now that you've had time to enjoy the festivities and wish good health and happiness to my uncle and his bride, I have an announcement. News of the traitor to the north."

Beside Edward, Isabella stiffened.

"House Swan has been dealt a tremendous blow. We all know the traitor Emmett of House Swan has had his mother to hold his hand. Well, no longer." Felix swept his hands out in a grand gesture. "The matriarch of House Swan has been put to death. My grandsire's men were responsible."

Edward released a breath, and his shoulders slumped. Around him, the guests began to murmur. He could see many of them glancing at Isabella. Her face was blank, no trace of surprise. She'd known. Which meant the king had told her, likely right before he walked her down the aisle.

"Well?" the king said, looking irritated. "Is that not good news?"

Of course, Felix couldn't be expected to understand the rest of the crowd had a sense of decorum. They obliged their king with a rowdy cheer.

Edward turned to Isabella. "My Lady, I am so, so sorry."

"For what are you sorry, Uncle?" the king asked, his expression hard though Edward knew damn well he had to have been listening for this exact reaction. "Are you saying you're sorry for the death of a traitor? This woman wanted me off the throne. Dead, preferably, and you mourn her passing?"

Isabella's eyes went wide. She looked worried. For him? Well, with good reason. His wife was much smarter than he was, and better at the game of not yelling at their king. He breathed in through his nose.

"The realm has put a criminal to justice, and to this, I raise my glass," he said, doing so though it sickened him. "Your safety and your long, unchallenged reign are ever at the top of my thoughts." He placed his chalice on the table with a thunk that echoed through the room.

He turned to Isabella, and put a hand to her shoulder. "But traitor or no, my wife has lost her mother. I have just this day sworn to honor and protect her before all others. I am sorry for your loss."

"And why should she mourn?" the king asked, staring at Isabella. "Had my mother turned traitor, I would renounce her and forget every fond memory I had. You said, Lady Isabella, that your mother and brothers were already dead to you. It's been years since your mother's passing. You're free to celebrate along with the rest of us."

Edward slammed down his chalice and stood, glaring at his nephew. He caught his father fixing him with a gimlet stare. Heaven forbid he cause a scene. Edward took a deep breath. "I believe it is time I make my excuses." He rested a hand on Isabella's shoulder. "I'd like to have my new wife to myself."

Felix's grin turned lascivious. "Ah, it's time for the bedding, then."

"Which will be a private affair," Edward said loudly. He offered his hand to his wife. "Come, My Lady. Now." He knew he shouldn't snap at his wife, but he had to get her out of there before Felix could insist on the archaic and degrading bedding ceremony.

Flinching at his tone, Isabella looked between Felix and Edward. She looked a little green, but obviously, she decided Edward was the lesser of two evils. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

Felix looked as though he was going to protest, but Aro rose and spoke over the crowd. "A toast, to the growth of House Masen."

Edward and Bella exited to the sound of hearty cheers. Once in the hall, Edward released the breath he'd been holding. "Are you all right?" he asked his bride.

She took a shaky breath and attempted a smile he didn't believe at all. "Of course, My Lord."

Edward huffed and led her down another hall. "You're right. That was not a very smart question. Oh, my sweet girl. I'm not doing a very good job of taking care of you."

"You needn't concern yourself, My Lord," she said, her voice again taking on that monotone as it had during the ceremony and the feast. "This is my wedding day, and I am very happy."

Edward opened the door to his room. He went to his bed and sat down. She lingered in the doorway, and he could tell by the quick rise and fall of her shoulders that her heartbeat had sped. She knew what was expected of her. She clasped her hands in front of her, awaiting his order, no doubt.

"Come here to me," he requested, making his voice as soft as possible. Brave soul that she was, she hesitated only a moment before she walked to him. He gestured to the bed beside him, and she sat.

Edward took her hands and raised them to his lips, kissing her knuckles. He could feel the way she trembled. "I would like for you to call me Edward, and I would like to call you Isabella. Is that acceptable?" As though she would say no.

"Of course, My L— Er. Edward."

His lips twitched. My Edward had a ring to it he quite enjoyed. But, alas, it was unlikely he'd ever have someone who called him something so tender.

"Good," he said. "Now, there is something I have to say to you."

She readjusted herself so it was clear she was listening attentively. She looked drained, and there was no light in her beautiful eyes. He squeezed her hands. "I would like very much for you not to be frightened of me."

He hurried on, interrupting her before she could protest. "Isabella, I'm aware you have no reason to believe pretty promises from anyone in this city. Anyone in my family least of all. But for what little it may be worth, I was genuine in my vows. From now until death parts us, you are under my protection. I will not beat you, nor will I allow anyone else to harm you." He placed his fingers under her chin and raised her head. "Do you understand?"

Her eyes searched his. He could see in them that she didn't believe it, but she nodded anyway. "Yes, Edward."

For the time being, it was as good as he could hope for, so he continued. "I want you to know, I had no idea about your mother. Had I known, I would have insisted the wedding be put off. Truly, I'm sorry. Lady Renee was good and kind. You're a credit to her."

Isabella's breath hitched, and her eyes shone.

"Tonight, you should be able to mourn your mother. I will respect that," Edward said. "Further, I want you to know I recognize that you've had enough of your choices robbed from you, and your future decided by people who have no love for you.

"In light of that, I make you this offer. If you'll promise to try to consider the fact you can trust me, I will promise not to touch you or come to your bed unless you ask it of me."

Isabella's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "But, My Lord. It's expected of us." She paled and looked somewhere beyond him. "Of me."

"Eventually, yes. But there's time enough for that."

"I…" Isabella put a hand to her cheek and swallowed hard. "A...a little time. If I had just a little time, I swear I would not put you off forever. It's just—"

"Hush. I understand. Younger than you have been happy mothers made, but I do want you to be comfortable." He offered her the smallest of smiles. "We'll get to know each other, and won't think about all that for the time being. Agreed?" He raised his hand to shake.

She studied him another moment, as though not daring yet to believe him. Then, she took his hand and shook, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips.

"Good," Edward said, pleased to think they'd made some progress. He stood. "Now, it's been a terribly long day. Sleep if you can, wife. Our new life begins on the morrow."

He retreated to the chaise lounge and promptly turned his back, giving her some semblance of privacy. After a few moments, he heard the rustle of her gown falling away. He closed his eyes tightly, trying not to imagine how her slight body would feel under his hands.

Isabella climbed into his bed and silence overtook the room. Maybe a half hour had passed before Edward recognized the quiet sound he heard only intermittently.

She was crying.

Of course she was crying. She had every reason. He only hoped that none of her tears were in fear of him.

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 **A/N: By the by, if anyone is interested, I do have a Facebook group under my penname (Stories of LyricalKris because I'm SO creative). Discussions can be fun.**

 **A less than ideal wedding night, but how are we feeling?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Monday morning is being very MONDAY-ish to me, my friends. Blargh.**

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Bella woke up disoriented. She didn't know why her head and eyes ached, nor why the nightstand by her bed was so unfamiliar.

Awareness came to her, and she gasped, pushing herself upright. Across the room on the chaise lounge, Edward also sat up right. He reached out, grasping at something that wasn't there. "What? What is it?"

He looked to where his hand grasped nothing but air. The expression of befuddlement on his face was so funny, Bella couldn't help but laugh. He looked at her, and it was then Bella remembered everything. This man was her husband, and she was in her wedding bed.

Her unconsummated wedding bed.

Bella's smile fell, and she pulled the blankets up against her. Would he be upset that she'd laughed at him? Perhaps…

But the damage, it seemed, was done. Edward rose to his feet and stepped toward her.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," Bella blurted. "I didn't mean to laugh. P-please. You must forgive me."

He stopped mid stride, that befuddled expression back. He tilted his head and stared at her. "You're afraid of me."

She ducked her head. "I'm not, My Lord. I mean… I'm not, Edward. I'm sorry."

Her heartbeat quickened as he strode toward her, fully awake now. She clenched her hands in fists and resolved that she wouldn't beg as she very much wanted to. This was her husband, after all. She was his to do with as he liked.

Edward came and sat on the edge of her bed. He put two fingers beneath her chin and raised her head to look at him. "Do you remember what I promised you last night, Isabella?"

Of course she did. She'd lain awake a long while the night before, not daring to believe he meant what he said. She was used to Felix, who played mind games often. Jane's games were even more subtle. Despite how much she wanted to believe his promises, most of her had been certain he would come to bed the instant she let her guard down, and that he would hurt her if she tried to refuse him, no matter what he'd sworn.

"I remember," she said simply.

He studied her. "I'll say it again. I will not beat you." He let his hand drop to his lap. "Truth be told, I've never understood the practice. Our vows dictate that I take you under the cloak of my protection. How is it protecting you if I'm the one hurting you?"

Bella pulled the blankets tighter around her shoulders. Though she believed he would keep his promise not to touch her—for the moment—it still felt strange to have a man close to her when she was only in her dressing gown. "They say it's a man's job to correct and guide his wife."

"Do you believe that?"

Carefully, Bella raised her eyes to look at him. His eyes were as soft as his tone. Gentle and wise, Esme had said. Bella shook her head in answer to his question. "Even when he was was angry with her, I never knew my father to correct my mother."

Her words brought on a fresh wave of anguish as Bella remembered she would never see her mother again. She pressed her lips together and looked away from Edward. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly to ward off the tears.

Well over a year ago, the King had taken to having Bella beaten after every one of her brother's victories. She was dragged before the court to be bruised, bloodied, and shamed at Felix's discretion. After their engagement was broken, he had done the honors himself, all to send Emmett Swan a message. Of what, Bella had never learned.

Either way, each time, she had picked herself up off the floor, held her head high, and walked—oh, gods, it had ached so badly to walk upright at times—back to her room, willing herself not to cry. In her room, she pushed Angela away and only when she was alone did she collapse into a puddle of misery on her bed, sobbing her hurt and fear and degradation into her pillow.

Alone, she imagined her mother's soft hands. It had been years since she was touched with anything resembling tenderness. She went deep inside herself and pulled out the exact memory of her mother's comfort—the warmth of her body when she held Bella. Her patient fingers smoothing the gnarls out of Bella's hair. Her soft voice whispering words of comfort and strength.

Knowing her mother would come for her was the only thing that kept her alive in those dark moments, when it felt like her life was destined to be nothing but pain, shame, and loneliness. She still had the trust of a child who knew without a doubt that her mother would always come for her.

Now, she could not.

Bella's lower lip trembled. She wrapped her arms around herself and angled her body away from her husband. She winced when he touched her cheek but managed to keep herself otherwise still.

"You don't need to hide your grief from me, Isabella." He touched a hand briefly to her arm but pulled it back quickly. "I admired your mother a great deal. She was a strong, fierce woman. I wonder, my dear, if you know how many times she tried to get you back."

Bella raised her head, looking at him.

"You know my brother Alec was your brother's prisoner at one point?" Edward asked. When Bella nodded, he continued. "Word from our spies was that your mother was pushing your brother to trade—you for him. Lord Emmett couldn't do it, and they both knew it. Still, she pushed. She wanted you away from all of us, all of this, more than anything. And then Alec escaped. Oh, you can bet your brother regretted being unable to make the trade most bitterly then."

Bella closed her eyes, losing her battle against her tears. She covered her face with her hands.

Edward moved off the bed, giving her space, she thought. She was lost for minutes to her tears, but with some effort, was able to compose herself.

She heard Edward walk to a small table where he had wine. He poured two glasses and brought them over, handing her one. "Here. I know you don't like it, but have a little. I wish I had a cure to ease the pain of such a tremendous loss, I am, however, familiar with the wonderful qualities of a good wine." He smiled when she took the glass. "Whiskey is better, but this is very good wine."

Obedient to her lord if nothing else, Bella took a small drink. "How do you know I don't like wine?"

"I make it my business to observe people. Everyone at court. You only drink when Jane or Felix has you served." Edward's lips twitched. "And I saw you once pour your untouched wine in Sir Alistair's goblet when you thought no one was watching." He smiled full on when her head snapped up, her eyes wide with horror. "Someone is always watching, Isabella."

"Oh, gods. Oh no. My Lord, I—"

"Don't be nervous. Sir Alistair doesn't like to be out of drink, so you saved the serving boy a trip." He smirked. "And, I thought it was funny."

Bella took another drink of the wine to cover her embarrassment. "I don't like that it makes me lightheaded."

"That's half the point, my dear wife. It's fun to be lightheaded."

"I don't like that it makes it hard to think."

Edward's smile fell, and he nodded, taking a long pull from his own glass. "Ah, yes." He tilted the glass in his hand, watching the dark liquid circle. "Life for you has been a matter of constant vigilance, hasn't it?"

Bella's heart skipped a beat. She regretted her choice of words and his damnable powers of observation. "I'm treated well by the king and his court," she said by rote.

He locked eyes with her. "No, you aren't." He polished off the wine. "I will send your lady's maid to you. We can break our fast in the gardens. I know a spot where we won't be disturbed. Would that please you?"

"Of course."

He held her gaze a beat and his smile then was sad. "You wouldn't tell me if it didn't please you, would you?"

Bella didn't answer. She didn't know how to answer that, but she suspected Edward didn't need an answer. Her place was to be biddable and agreeable. What she wanted hadn't mattered in two years, and it wouldn't matter now.

Besides, what she wanted now—the only thing she wanted—was to be with her mother, father, and brothers again. No matter how kind Edward was or wasn't, he couldn't give her that.

Edward sighed. "In any event. You had nothing to eat yesterday. A little fresh air and a solid meal will do us both a world of good."

He made himself scarce while she was attended to by Angela. When she was dressed and combed, Edward reappeared. He offered his arm, and she took it. They strolled into the gardens where, indeed, he had a secluded place in mind. Only a duo of servants attended them, serving wine, orange juice, porridge with brown sugar and butter for Bella, and bacon and eggs for Edward.

As they walked and then breakfasted, Edward spoke a bit about his family. It was gratifying to hear embarrassing stories of Jane when she was a young girl, and Bella giggled trying to imagine the one time Edward saw his father get drunk. It was hard to imagine the unflappable Aro Masen drunk off his respectable ass.

"I don't know much about your brothers," Bella said, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Hmm. My brothers." Edward sighed. "Our precious king was named after my elder brother, Felix. He was the pride of our family. Handsome, strong, bold. A good warrior. Not good enough, obviously."

"But was he nice to you?"

"No." He took a long drink of his wine and tilted his head to give her a small smile. "But it wasn't personal like it is with Jane. Felix wasn't nice to anyone. He was much like my father—cold and ruthless. Felix was his pride and joy."

Bella frowned, and her heart ached. "Was there no kindness at all for you in your household?" That idea pained her. Perhaps these last two years had been hell for her, but she'd had a happy childhood with two loving parents and three bratty brothers.

"Oh, there's no need to worry about me. I made friends with the servants, and believe me when I say, they were better company. I've never been without friends." He shrugged. "And Alec was there. He's pleasant enough on his own. He loves me as a brother should." His lips turned downward. "The problem with Alec is that he's obedient. He's obedient to the wishes of the king and our father. But mostly, he's obedient to Jane."

Bella's stomach churned, and not for the first time, she wondered exactly how much truth there was to the claim about the king. All of this had started when her father had questioned the legitimacy of Jane's children. She knew who popular gossip said fathered Jane's three children, including the current King Felix. Now, her father was dead and the kingdoms were at war over the high throne.

She knew better than to ask.

Edward stood and stretched, staring out at the sea. His hair ruffled in the breeze. "I'm not sure if you realize, Isabella, but this isn't our home."

Bella blinked. As a high born young lady, she had been well schooled in the other houses. The capital city of Volterra belonged to the Volturi family, and the sitting king was a Volturi. However, the king's mother, former Queen Jane, was a Masen, just as Bella was now. They were from a land to the south and west. A beautiful place by the sea, from what she understood.

"You're to inherit your father's lands," she said aloud, realizing.

Edward nodded. "When my father dies, I will have to go and see to my new lands. Besides, my nephew despises me. He'll throw me off the inner council as soon as my father isn't there to stop him."

Bella shivered. It seemed too tame an action for the devil-king. But surely, he wouldn't kill his uncle?

Well, no. Bella didn't put it past him.

Edward turned around. "Would that please you, my wife? To be the Lady of Casterly Port. Far away from here?"

That stunned Bella. Two years ago, she had thought that dream—of what her life should be, married to a kind, handsome Lord—had fallen to pieces on the floor along with her father's head. The idea she could have it wouldn't sink in. She was too scared to let it.

However, it only made rational sense. She was Edward's wife, and would be for the rest of her life. Someone had to be the lord of Casterly Port, and he was the only surviving heir.

"I think I would like that very much," she whispered, the first truth she'd spoken in a very long time.

He turned to her, a pleased smile on his face. "Good."

"Is that what you want?" she asked. "It sounded as though you had no love for your home."

"I have no...attachment to my family. My home, however, is as good a place as any. Better than some." He swept his hand wide over the view. "Better than here for many reasons. Smaller. Much less complicated."

Bella snorted softly. "Yes, well. That doesn't take much, does it?"

Strange. She'd known all her life she would grow up to marry a lord and be lady of a land far away from the one she'd known. She'd never understood what that meant. She'd never understood when her mother told her there were times she still felt like a stranger in Rainfall where she'd spent most her life.

All things considered, though, she would take being a stranger making a home in a distant land over being captive to a malevolent king any day. That was another strange thing to consider—that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't a captive any longer.

Oh, she knew she wasn't free to leave the city. She knew she couldn't see her brother. But she was beginning to understand that being Edward's wife came with more possibility than she'd had just the day before.

Bella was so afraid to hope.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks to Betsy, JessyPT, Eleanor, Mina, and Packy for keeping my docs lively.**

 **Dig the gorgeous banner Mina made me. It's so pretty. I don't know how she manages to make such incredible works of art every time. I think this is my favorite after Trouble Follows.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello, my ducks! Hope you're having a wonderful weekend thusly.**

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Every night, Edward escorted his wife to her rooms. For form's sake, he spent an hour or so there with her. They played cards, mostly. Isabella was a cunning cardplayer. She also had enough pride left that she didn't let him win, though the first few times she looked nervous about it. Edward was delighted to find she had a competitive streak at least a mile wide.

She also wasn't as ignorant as he might have expected of any woman, let alone a girl her age. More than just survival instinct, she was savvy in the politics that went on between the great houses. It was clear that she was only playing at being meek and mild.

Oh, what this woman would become if only she could see she didn't have to fight for her life anymore. As it was, it took him the greater part of two weeks to coax opinions out of her about the guests at court and some of the complications facing the realm. She was insightful and gave him some history about the Denali clan—a group of wild hill country dwellers from the North—that would go a long way toward improving trade negotiations with them. Before talking to her, Edward hadn't suspected it was possible. As they were from the north, it was natural to assume they would be no friends to the crown.

He was right about that, but the Denali clan had no allegiance to any king or lord. They traded with her brother Emmett and the Northern lords. They would fight with Emmett if the crown got near their own lands. However, they were not averse to trade with the capital city.

One day, as he was extolling Bella's virtues and retelling how thoroughly she'd bested him at their last game, Carlisle—one of his only true friends in the capital city—laughed. Edward stopped to let a group of courtiers go by, nodding as he did, and eyed his friend. "What's so funny?"

"You are, my friend. When your father handed down his edict, you howled to the heavens about the future—both hers and yours. And how you were sure to be miserable. Yet it seems to me that what you've discovered is that you like your wife. More than admire her; you genuinely enjoy the pleasure of her company."

Edward was silent for a few moments, considering this as they continued walking. "You're right. I didn't expect to find so much in common with a woman half my own age." He huffed. "In my experience, men my age have only one interest in a woman that young, and it has nothing to do with her brilliant mind." He paused a beat. "Yes, I like her. I like her a great deal. I wonder, though, if it's even possible for her to come to like me. The way she watches me sometimes… It is as though she still believes my kindness is some kind of ruse."

"It must be terribly difficult to let your guard down when you've had no one to trust but yourself for years." Carlisle frowned and shook his head. "And as a child, no less."

Carlisle clasped his hands behind his back, his expression thoughtful as he continued. "I've often thought how blessed I am. I was able to marry for love, and yet I have enough wealth to keep me and mine from the back-breaking labor that plagues the lower classes. For all your privilege and outward power, Edward, you're as bound by duty as a peasant is by poverty. Differently. Peasants don't marry for any reason but that they wish to."

"Your relationship with your wife is admirable. I have often wondered if it was possible for a marriage born of necessity and duty—marrying someone you're commanded to—could ever end in a true union such as you and Esme share."

Carlisle was quiet for a moment. Then he chuckled. "I'm sorry. This conversation is making me miss my son. But I hope I am not overstepping my place by giving you, if not advice, then something else to think about when it comes to marriage.

"I don't think that love or fondness is unique. It may blossom anywhere, with most anyone who isn't abhorrent to you, but only if it is allowed to do so." Carlisle's lip twitched. "Many of my peers believe I'm unnatural to think so, but I think that what cultivates fondness, even love, begins with respect. Though the law may not agree, I think my wife is my equal and my partner." His smile became tender. "Esme is many times wiser than I, and I wouldn't be as good at my position on the council without her consideration and advice."

Edward grimaced. He glanced around them and lowered his voice when he spoke again. "It has often struck me as a cruel twist of fate that our beloved king sits on the throne while Bella sits at his mercy. She's only a year younger than him, and yet she would be a thousand times the king he is."

"Oh, I think we have a few too many claims to the throne at the moment," Carlisle said with some humor. Emmett Swan wasn't the only one rebelling against the crown, after all. "Although, I must admit they're all correct on one point. Any one of them would be more fit to lead than your nephew, or so I've heard it said." He looked around carefully. They were getting closer to the council room, and it wouldn't be good for the wrong people to hear such treasonous talk. "I've also heard some people say our good king believes it's his duty to exert the power of the throne as his personal, abhorrent whims dictate."

"No doubt the one who made that claim is the same traitor who has called our king a sadistic prick." Edward made his eyes wide, his tone awash with aghast innocence.

Carlisle shot him a warning look. "It may well have been." He held the council room door open for him. "After you, My Lord."

As everyone had not gathered yet, the two paused for another moment of conversation. Carlisle turned and put a hand on Edward's shoulder. "From a father to a son, I hope you will permit me to say you're a fine man; among the best I know. You deserve the happiness a good match can bring you." His eyes sparked with merriment. "And not to sound like a gossiping lady, but I think you'll find that your wife rather likes you too. I don't think I've seen her smile in years, but she does when you come into the room at times."

Edward arched his eyebrows. He had noticed her small smiles, but he'd thought perhaps the married women had accepted her into their fold now that she too was wed. Could she really be at least a little pleased to see him?

The idea warmed him.

A loud thump drew both men's attention. Edward turned his head to see his father had entered the room and set down a large tome—the source of the noise. However, it seemed to Edward that Aro was looking at him with a disapproving expression. Not exactly atypical, and he didn't speak to it as Edward took his typical seat at his side.

However, when their business was concluded some time later, his father called to him before he could take his leave. "Join me, Edward."

Edward grimaced. A private audience with his father hadn't been a good thing when he was a child; it was even less so now. "As you say, sir."

"I will be direct, and I expect a clear answer," Aro said when they were behind closed doors. He looked across his desk at his son. "Do you consort with men?"

Edward furrowed his brow, not understanding his father's meaning. "I beg your pardon?"

"Do you take men to your bed?" His father's nose wrinkled. "Or you to theirs?"

"I… What? No." Taken totally off guard, Edward couldn't form a coherent sentence.

Aro didn't look convinced, but he sat back in his chair, contemplating his son. "Your wife is young and very beautiful, Edward. I'm at a loss to explain what the problem may be."

Edward noted that the serving boy must have left a flagon on the desk in preparation for his father's arrival. Hoping it was filled with wine, he dragged it toward him along with an empty goblet. "There's no problem, Father."

"Is there not?" Aro's voice was wry. "I would have thought a man of your age wouldn't need to have this discussion."

"What discussion is that?"

"It is difficult to get her with child when you don't share a bed."

Edward opened his mouth to deny his father's claim, but knew from the look on his face he was caught. Irritation sparked in his blood. "What now, Father? Do you have the maids bring you our sheets?"

"That's hardly necessary when you and your wife retire to your separate quarters every night."

"Many married couples don't share a room. Perhaps we prefer our privacy."

Aro waved a hand. "You've already admitted you haven't bedded her. I'm not going to ask you why, as I'm in no mood for nonsense today. The girl has had her courses these many years now. I know you're capable. I've paid bills to the brothels often enough."

Edward clenched his jaw. "You exaggerate, Father." He was thirty-four years old, and while he didn't indulge in carnal pleasures often, he was no monk either. "And if there is one thing you may say about whores, it's that you can be certain they're willing."

Aro cocked his head. "Is that what this is about?"

Edward stood, needing to spend some excess energy. He paced a few feet away and turned his back to his father. "I won't force her. She will come to my bed willingly or not at all."

"You little fool," his father said with disgust. "Women get very silly about such things. She would not be the first woman to go to her marriage bed unwillingly, and she will not be the last. It is her duty, and your duty as her husband to guide her if she is remiss."

"That's barbarous," Edward spat, turning to face his father again.

"That's marriage," his father returned plainly. "You're aren't a child, Edward. I grow tired of informing you of things you should already know. You're a man twice her age. She should not be the one in control of this marriage."

"And what will you do, Father, if I don't obey your will? Are you going to come into our room and have your men force me on her?" He shook his head. "Sometimes I am nothing but glad my mother didn't survive my birth. I'm not sure I could have stomached seeing what you would be like as a husband."

"That's enough," Aro said, his voice harsh and his eyes narrowed. "You vex me, boy, and any fool could tell you it's not a wise thing to do. Not to me." He took a deep breath and sat back. "There is a natural order of things. This is the way the world works. You owe a debt to your family that will be paid. Whether you or your wife like it is of no concern to me." He pointed a finger at him. "Don't force my hand, Edward. I can promise you'll like that even less. Are we clear?"

Edward had to swallow hard past the lump in his throat. "As ever, Father."

 _ **~Bella~**_

Edward had been in a strange mood for several days. He was quieter than usual, and he drifted into his own thoughts easier.

Bella was hyper-sensitive to mood changes. With Felix, any mood swing, from jovial to furious, didn't bode well for her. His mother, Queen Mother Jane, wasn't as mercurial. Still, when her moods turned dark or sickeningly sweet, Bella was always on high alert. At least the Queen Mother never physically harmed her, but she seemed to take some pleasure from toying with Bella's mind and emotions.

Strange that Edward's moods didn't twist her nerves. Rather, Bella found that she was more concerned than anything. This was no ordinary upset. Edward got headaches frequently when he was trying to figure out how best to manage the money of the realm, but he would talk to her about this. Whatever was bothering him went deeper than that.

One evening, as they strolled the grounds outside the castle, Bella saw an opportunity to distract him. She knew he was curious about her. When they spoke, Bella was always careful about how much she revealed about herself. She was too used to people using her memories and personal information against her.

They walked in silence for several minutes before Bella decided it was worth a chance. After all, Edward had shown nothing but kindness to her. It pained her to see him in this troubled mood. She pulled him to a stop to the side of the training grounds where a few knights still practiced their sword play.

Bella had to swallow several times, overcome with emotion as she always was when she thought of her family. She missed all of them so dearly. "When I was little, there were times I used to beg my mother to let me be a boy. Once, I suggested a replacement. I could switch places with my littlest brother, Eric." She smiled fondly. "Eric had an appreciation for fine, lacy things, and when he was very small, he used to watch Mother and I sew. I think he would have liked to learn to sew, and as I would have liked to learn to wield a sword. It seemed a fine trade to me."

Edward chuckled, and she felt his curious gaze on her. "I don't think that I would like to sew, nor do any other women's pastimes. The piano, perhaps. It might be nice to learn to play. You play so beautifully, Bella."

"Thank you," Bella said, surprised when a warm blush tinted her cheeks.

"I'd never thought of how it might be to do as women do. Do you find it all dull?"

"Not all of it." Bella's lips twitched as she remembered well her mother's exasperation on the days she couldn't seem to sit still. "I suppose I was strange in that way. I wanted all of it. I wanted to make my own fine dresses and dance with handsome knights. And I wanted to be out in the mud wrestling with my brothers. Well. Perhaps not Emmett." She sighed, missing her eldest brother terribly. "He was frighteningly large even when we were children, and overly rambunctious."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, wondering if she had pushed too far. To mention her dead mother and her littlest brother—still a child if he was still alive—was one thing. To mention the traitor, Emmett Swan, was quite another.

But Edward was looking at her with curiosity, not anger. "So did you ever get to dance in a fancy dress with a handsome knight?"

Bella sighed, wistful. "There was talk of a ball, but it was only that—talk."

"Hmm." Edward took a step back and offered her his hand. "I'm no handsome knight, but may I have the honor of a dance in any case?"

Again, she felt heat flush her cheeks, and she gave a small laugh. He only looked back at her patiently, his face soft but serious. "It's been years since I've danced," she said.

"Well, we'll go slowly."

She took his hand and let him draw her close. She felt a thrill go down her spine when his hand went to her waist. She blinked up at him, breathless for reasons she couldn't figure. Though it had been years since her last lesson, she found it effortless to follow as Edward led them in a slow, easy twirl.

"I could teach you, you know," he said. His voice had such a curious, deep timber to it that Bella almost missed the words.

She blinked. "What?"

"I could teach you to use a sword, if you wish. It would be no trouble."

For some reason, Bella felt almost dizzy as she looked into his eyes. He had such beautiful green eyes, and her thoughts were thick. Surely she was misunderstanding something. "Teach me to use a sword? But that's… You don't think it's unseemly?"

He laughed, and his arm curled slightly tighter around her waist. "I'll admit that's a word people use that I have never understood. Why would it be bad for you to know how to use a sword, hmm?"

He tilted his head toward her, a more serious expression on his face. "I hope, my dear wife, that you'll never be in a city while it's under siege. It's a terrible thing. It happened to me once, when I was a child. I recall vividly how the women and children gathered, and all they could do was wait while men decided their fate."

Edward stopped dancing, but he didn't drop his hands from where they were around her as he studied her face. "It is a husband's duty to protect his wife, so they say women have no need to learn the basics of battle and sword play. Yet, it is only husbands who fall in battle. Then what? If the city had fallen, the women would have been subjected to the whim of the winning army. They would have been helpless to protect themselves or the children."

Bella's throat tightened at the idea. They were, after all, at war. The opposing armies had come threateningly near the capital city twice already. It could happen to them. To her.

She was startled when Edward pressed a palm to her cheek. She looked up at him, and was further surprised to see he looked pained. "May I ask you a question?" His voice was so soft, it was almost a whisper.

For some reason, the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes made the knot in Bella's throat all the worse. She could only nod.

Edward didn't ask right away. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, his eyes sweeping her face. "Did Felix…" He swallowed hard, and it seemed to her that his jaw was taut. "Did he ever come to your bed?"

A cold chill washed over her, and Bella had to stop herself from taking a step backward. It wasn't that she was afraid of her husband, but the question was like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

Had he changed his mind about letting her come to him? That was his right, of course. And if that was the case, was he asking because he thought he had, perhaps, gotten a bad deal?

Bella ducked her head, shame and an old anxiety flooding through her.

"I'm sorry. I could have found a better way to ask that." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I only want to know if he hurt you in that way." His voice turned dark, dangerous. "I know my nephew. You were betrothed to him. I'm not sure I trust him to understand the difference between betrothed and wed."

She shuddered, closing her eyes. That had been a fear that kept her awake so many nights. Felix had threatened, implied, more than once. If it hadn't been for the warnings he got from his grandfather, Bella was quite sure he would have acted.

Taking a steadying breath and releasing it, she found her voice again. "No. He didn't do that." She found she couldn't look up at him.

His thumb pressed lightly under her chin, and he raised her head up. "Bella," he said softly.

It took every ounce of effort she possessed, but she looked up at him.

His eyes were burning and sincere. "I will tell you again, what I promised before still stands. I don't want you to fear me, Bella. Never."

Taking a few shallow breaths to steady her racing heart, Bella nodded. "I don't, Edward."

Surprisingly, that was the truth. The subject matter had unnerved her, but he hadn't.

He nodded. His eyes lingered on her, his gaze drifting down to her lips. Bella held her breath, though she didn't know why. She may have been mistaken, but she thought his breath stuttered before he took a step back. "I'm sorry. I've ruined a nice evening."

She shook her head. "No. Of course you didn't."

Smiling, he offered her his arm once more, and they continued their walk.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks to MoH, Packy, Songster, and Eleanor for their help.**

 **How goes it, kiddos?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello, my doves. Onward!**

* * *

It wasn't as though Edward had never heard the gossip about Bella around the court. As he'd told her, he made it his duty to observe people.

There were some, like him, who had looked on Bella with pity. When she'd come to the capital city, she'd been but a fresh-faced child. He'd admired her even then. He could see she was out of her depth. Of course she was. She'd been fourteen and not so well traveled outside the gates of her home city of Rainfall. Still, despite her obvious nerves, she held her head high and, in those early days, didn't let anyone talk down to her.

He'd always felt uneasy about her betrothal to his nephew. The boy had a cruel streak a mile wide. However, Edward was not in a position to protest the union, so he did his best to guide Felix, for what little good it did him.

Then this whole, sordid mess. Her father was dead, and she was the only one left to answer for her family's sins. Her choice had been taken away, and the light had drained from her eyes.

However, humans weren't known for being rational or merciful. While there were plenty who looked on the girl with kind eyes, there were even more who were more than happy to take their frustrations out on her. Her father's treasonous words had sparked a war that sent the realm into a great upheaval, and it made them bloodthirsty. It was the reason they'd cheered when the king had Isabella dragged into the middle of the throne room. Their sons were dying, their futures were uncertain, and Isabella was the only one there to pay for it—their pain for hers. As though if she screamed loud enough, they might be sated.

Now, Edward sat with Carlisle in a quiet corner, listening to two such fine examples of humanity who were unaware he was behind them.

"That little bitch forgets herself these days. Walking around the castle like she's untouchable."

The other one scoffed. "Probably is. That coward husband of hers doesn't have the stones to put her in her place."

"If he had any kind of loyalty at all, he'd show it."

Another scoff. "If he had any kind of loyalty, he'd not be called the coward, now would he? No. The little girl has all the power in that relationship, and she knows it, too."

Carlisle's hand on his arm was the only thing that kept Edward from showing the curs exactly how cowardly he could be. He thought perhaps a good backstabbing would serve their wagging tongues well enough, and he'd see if it quenched their bloodthirst.

With a huff, Edward sat back down and took a long drink of his ale. "I should give them something their own size to pick on."

Carlisle shook his head. Though he had calmed Edward, his eyes were blazing and his jaw was taut. "I guarantee you, my friend, they are the cowards. If you were to challenge them, they would scream bloody murder."

Edward was silent, gnawing on his inner cheek as he thought. "She won't be safe here even with me, will she?" he asked quietly.

"Are any of us safe with the king on the throne?" Carlisle sighed. "In a way, she's safer. As the daughter of a traitor to the crown, by rights, she is deserving of ridicule and shame." His lips turned down, showing what he thought of that. "As your wife, these cretins may only say so behind your back. The daughter of House Swan is not owed any respect. But she is no longer the daughter of House Swan, or at least, that is not her primary title." Carlisle nodded his head in the direction the two gossipers had headed. "They were right about one thing. She's holding herself taller these days. She is a lord's wife, and she must carry herself with the pride that comes with that. To do otherwise would be an insult to you. The Lady of Casterly Port is owed respect, and she knows it. The wife of the Master of Coin has every reason to hold her head high."

"But?"

"But she is _your_ wife. Recall we're speaking plainly now, My Lord," Carlisle said, sympathy strong in his eyes. "All things considered, I do think you and Bella as individuals are well-matched, and that you may find, some years from now, that your marriage is naught but a happy one. However, at present, with the future of the realm uncertain, being both a Swan and a Masen puts her in a uniquely vulnerable position. Aside from those even at the capital who despise your family, your father now sees her as his. His to command and control just as he sees all his children as pawns. And your father, as you well know, is most dangerous when he thinks his pawns aren't behaving as they should."

"And that is not to speak of the king," Edward said, mostly to himself now. "He still believes it's his right to toy with Isabella. What he did to her on our wedding day." He shook his head. "Thus far I've been able to keep my wife close by my side at dinner and other occasions where she might otherwise find herself cornered."

He sat up straight and looked across the table to Carlisle. "I've been negligent in my duty to my wife. It's dangerous for her here."

Carlisle offered him a small smile. "That's not new. It has been dangerous for her here… Well, in reality, since the old king died and left the throne to Felix. The power has gone to his head in a way it hadn't when he was just a boy. Even without her father's accusations, Isabella would not have had a good life as Felix's queen."

"She is under my protection, and that must mean something. No, Carlisle. I have been negligent. True, it may be that I can't send her to her loving family. That would be treason. However, I may send her from the capital, may I not?"

Carlisle cocked his head, studying him for a long moment. "Your father wouldn't allow it."

"Isabella is my wife; not his. And here again I've failed. I am, as you've said, under my father's thumb. I am his son, and thus his pawn to move about the board as he likes. Isabella, however, belongs to me. He relinquished his control over her when he bound us together."

Carlisle didn't look pleased, but he nodded slowly. "What did you have in mind?"

~0~

Of course, Edward was well aware that his father's influence had a great reach. He also had spies everywhere. As such, he moved as quickly as he could, trying to make arrangements for his wife before Aro became aware of them.

Not quickly enough. He was at a warehouse at the docks, searching the ledgers for ships that would take sail soon, where they were going, and who they were captained by when his father's voice interrupted.

"What do you think you're doing, Edward?"

Edward closed his eyes briefly and counted to ten. He opened his eyes again and continued about his task. "I'm looking to arrange safe passage for Isabella." There was no sense in lying, and he needn't in any case. He was doing no wrong.

"Passage? Where?"

"Home. To Casterly Port, of course." He took a steadying breath and attempted to sound pleasant. "It has been a long while since our home has had a mistress, after all. Jane left when she was younger than Bella is now. It will be a good thing."

"She will not leave this city," Aro said plainly. He sounded bored.

Edward slammed the logbook shut and turned to face his father. "Is my wife a prisoner, Father?"

His father's lip twitched. "Don't be ridiculous. I see no shackles on her; nor has there ever been."

"But she can't leave."

"Don't tell me I have to inform you how best to protect your wife now? Do you think it's safe to send Isabella Swan forward alone when her brother calls himself a king in his own right and fights for his own throne?" Aro scoffed. "Do you want to see her held for ransom or worse? Disposed of as a display of righteousness whether at her brother or at us?"

Edward shuddered. "How little you think of me, Father. There are those I would trust to escort her safely."

"She's safer here." Aro cocked his head. "You're a smart boy, Edward. I had thought a lifetime of observation would be enough to teach you what is and isn't proper within a marriage. Still, I am your father. I will guide your hand like a child if you require it. I will tell you now you will not shirk your duties. You will not cast your wife to the side, and you will not abandon her."

Edward stared at his father. "Abandon her? Cast her aside? Have I missed some development in the war, Father? Is Casterly Port no longer our home? Isabella's home?"

"Her home is by her husband's side. You are in residence for the time being. Your home is here in Volterra."

"I wouldn't be the first husband to send his wife to keep the home fires burning."

His father's eyes hardened into a glare. "First of all, Casterly Port is still mine, and it will not be run at the whim of a seventeen-year-old girl run amok. Secondly, you may make a safe bet that none of those you speak of sent their young wives away until their firstborn sons were safely born."

Edward narrowed his eyes. "Is that was this is about again? We have a long life ahead of us, and I have plenty of time to get children on her."

Aro stared at him, incredulity plain on his face. "Are you mad? Have you lost your senses? I struggle to understand what's wrong with you. The point of taking a wife is to further your line, which should be not only your duty but your pride. Though, believe me, from where I sit, fathering children is a thankless task." He shook his head. "Whatever land of the fairies you think you are living in, I'm not sure. In this land, a man takes a wife who will bear him children. There is no waiting. There will be no waiting."

His father took a steadying breath and pointed a finger in his face. "I've told you before, boy, not to force my hand. I'm finished listening to your whining. You are wed, and you will do what's proper. If you send your wife away, I will have her dragged back. I will have her beaten for running, and I will have you whipped for thinking to abandon her." He stepped toward Edward. "Test me. See if I don't."

Edward could do nothing but watch as his father stalked away. Though he knew it rather proved his father's point that he was acting like a child, he couldn't stop himself from throwing the logs to the ground and stalking off in the other direction.

 _ **~Bella~**_

Only when Bella was around the corridor from her room did she let her guard down. She let her shoulders slump and some of the weariness creep into her face. She rubbed her temples, glad that she didn't have to smile and put on a demure attitude for an hour or so.

She was considering a nap, but when she finally got to her room, she was set upon by Angela. "Good, My Lady, you're here. Look." She sounded so thrilled. "My Lord has brought you a strange gift."

Sure enough, laid out on Bella's bed was an outfit. A man's outfit—pants and a vest made of thin leather. A rope belt. It was simple but clean, and looked small enough to fit her. Perhaps it was a boy's outfit. A teenage boy?

Bella looked to Angela. "What is the meaning of this?"

Her eyes were wide. "I don't know, My Lady. My Lord left instructions to tell you to get dressed and how to do your hair."

"My hair?"

Angela nodded. "He'll be here shortly. Let's be quick."

Still confused, Bella changed into the outfit. They were loose but a decent enough fit. She cinched the rope belt tightly about her waist. She didn't argue when Angela guided her to sit and began to brush out her hair. Angela tied her hair in a tight braid and then piled it up out of the way on her head.

Angela had just done the last pin when there was a rap on the door immediately followed by it swinging open. Edward had explained it wasn't that he didn't want to give her privacy. Husbands simply didn't knock on their wives' doors.

Bella stood, her cheeks flaming. Even though it was he who'd given her the clothes, they still felt odd. When his eyes raked up and down her body, she ducked her head. "I must look ridiculous."

Edward offered his hand, and when she took it, she looked up. He smiled, and she could swear even in the dim light of the room that his eyes danced. "You would make a plain sack look lovely, Isabella. Beauty is in your very nature."

Now Bella flushed for much different reasons, and a strange smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She covered it with her free hand. "Do you have some adventure planned for us that necessitated my not wearing a dress?" To her surprise, her tone came out on the borderline of teasing. She looked to him, hoping she wasn't in trouble.

If anything, his grin grew wider. "An adventure?" He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and opened the door for them. "I'm afraid not. I think a proper adventure would require us to go quite a bit further than we are."

"That's not necessarily so. My gran used to say that anyone with an imagination may have an adventure any time." She smiled, remembering. "But then, she was known to stare into space at parties. Many thought she was simple. In reality, she was a well-learned woman with a taste for bawdy jokes. Or so I would assume. When she told one around me—for I was very little when she died—my mother would be scandalized."

"And you, Lady Isabella?" Edward looked and sounded amused. "Is that what you think about when you're so quiet? Adventures?"

Bella paused, wondering if she should be honest. But if he'd had no quarrel at her pouring her wine in Sir Alistair's glass, he would likely not think much of this. "Romances," she confessed, looking down at her feet.

She often made up stories about the glances across the room, the handshakes that lingered too long.

"Oh," Edward said, drawing the word out. "Scandalous romances?"

Unable to help herself, she giggled—a small, short sound. "And clandestine."

"Well, I would love to hear of these scandalous, clandestine romances, wife, but I fear we have reached our destination." He opened a door and waved a hand. "After you."

As with most castles, there were rooms long forgotten that served no real use. This was one such room. It was empty saved for the odd piece of furniture shoved to a far corner. Light filtered in, but someone, likely Edward, had scattered candles around the very edges of the room.

Bella turned back to her husband in time to see him stoop to pick something up that leaned against the wall. She gasped, and she knew her eyes must have lit up as she grinned. "You were serious?"

He proffered her a sword. "Of course. I am a man of my word."

"I didn't mean to offend, My Lord."

"And you did not. Here." He stepped closer and put the sword in her hand. He kept his hand cupped under hers as he moved to stand behind and beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth against her back. "Now, the first thing to know is that swordplay is all about balance. If you don't have balance, your blade will only serve to work against you. You'll end up on your pretty rear end as soon as anything."

Bella flushed but she snickered. She was breathless already, excited, and she made herself take a deep breath. She very much wanted to be a good student.

"A good sword has a good balance—the weight of it equal to what your arm can withstand." He took his hand away from hers, though he continued to stand close enough that he could murmur in her ear. "You feel its weight?"

Bella shifted her stance and flexed her arm a bit, trying to find a comfortable position. "It's heavier than I imagined."

"Yes. Your arm will get stronger, but I've already ordered a sword made especially for you. It's lighter than this one, and very sharp."

"I hear that's the point." Bella's lip twitched. "Quite literally."

He chuckled, and the low sound sent a thrill down Bella's spine. She sucked in a sharp breath, and gave her head a quick shake to dispel whatever strange emotion had come over her. Again, she bade herself to concentrate. Her husband was doing her a great favor, and she wanted to show him what a quick study she could be.

For the next hour, he showed her how to hold her body. He put a hand to the small of her back and guided her arm into place. He gently nudged his foot against hers to widen her stance. His chest against her back, he guided her arm in a thrusting motion, all the while speaking in a low, commanding voice in her ear.

"Good," he said when she demonstrated the stances he showed her. "Very good, Isabella. You're very agile."

She liked that he seemed so pleased with her and redoubled her efforts even when her arm began to ache and tremble. He'd been right about balance. Several times she had to catch herself, stumbling a step or widening her stance before she fell flat on her face.

One such a time, as she stepped back out of a thrust, she rendered herself off balance. She swung her arms wide, including her sword arm.

"Whoa!" Edward yelped, ducking out of the way.

Bella tried to correct herself, pulling her sword arm in closer, and only managed to make the situation worse. There was a loud clatter as the sword fell to the ground, and Bella cried out as she began to fall.

She didn't hit the ground. Instead, she found herself caught up in Edward's embrace. He'd curled an arm around her waist and brought her flush against him so her hands fell open on his chest. She blinked up at him, stunned and breathless. In an instant, the very air changed. It was heated and charged, like fire and static. She licked her lips.

The motion drew Edward's eyes from hers down, and his gaze lingered. In a movement she didn't register before she'd already done it, she tilted her head up. She felt the heat of his exhale, and then his lips were on hers.

Bella's head swam, and her heart beat seemed to send fire and lightning straight down to her toes. She whimpered, though not in fear. It was just that the emotion that came over her then was more than she knew what to do with. He overwhelmed her every sense. He sparked in her a hunger she'd never known. Her hands went up over his chest to tangle in the hair at his neck. His body engulfed her, and yet it seemed to her he wasn't close enough.

Seconds. Long seconds passed, and yet they were gone in a heartbeat. He broke the kiss with a soft whine. His eyes were closed. Bella stilled, not at all sure what she would do if she allowed herself to move. Would she duck out of his embrace? Likely not. She had the odd sensation that if she moved, it would be to pull him back down to her mouth, and that seemed…

Inappropriate? Wrong?

No. Neither of those things.

Edward sighed and rested his forehead against hers. He brought his hands up to cradle her face and kissed her again. This kiss was gentle, achingly so, and fleeting. "We'll be missed at dinner, Isabella."

"Bella," she said, surprised she could speak at all. As it was, her voice was thin and breathless.

He opened his eyes and took her hands in his. "What?"

She looked down at his chest a moment before summoning her courage. It seemed so impossible that this could be a good thing. "Will you call me Bella? I prefer it."

He smiled, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. He brought their joined hand up to brush the back of his knuckle over one cheek. "Bella." He cleared his throat and took a small step away from her, dropping one hand, but keeping the other tightly in his. "Shall we? We have to change before dinner."

Bella nodded. She felt strangely as though she could float back to her room.

As she dressed for dinner, she could hold back her thoughts no longer. It occurred to her that at some point tonight she had stopped wondering if Edward's kindness was some elaborate game made to destroy her soul once and for all. Now, she couldn't help but wonder if she could really have the small happiness that had bloomed in her chest.

Happiness, she had learned a long time ago, was a dangerous thing to have.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks to MoH, Mina, Betsy, Eleanor, and Packeh.**

 **How we doing out there, sweet peas?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm having a blargh kind of day today. Let's see if we can improve it some.**

* * *

Edward liked kissing his wife.

He didn't think he'd ever been this interested in kissing before. Typically, there was just enough to get him properly riled up for the main course.

It was just that Edward had never expected Bella to be so responsive. He'd always known her to be a well-brought-up, proper lady. Ladies tended to at least pretend they found outright displays of affection distasteful. They might kiss their husbands daintily on the cheek, but this was something else altogether. She certainly didn't kiss like a whore—fervent to the point of bruising. A little _too_ enthusiastic.

Bella tilted her head up, welcoming his kiss, inviting him to linger. Her hands, which had tentatively rested at his waist at first, gradually crept up his sides. Her touch sent the most wonderful chills down his spine. There was something so precious about the way her tongue came out to meet his, so gingerly at first and then with increasing confidence.

Which was another revelation. He thought perhaps his wife liked kissing him as much as he liked kissing her.

It had been four days. Edward found time and privacy to teach his wife how to use a sword, and always, they would find themselves in this position—arms tangled, lip to lip.

The fourth night, Edward could find no time except after dinner. That wasn't a problem. The problem was that he didn't have the excuse of dinner to calm the fire in his blood. Instead, he was bathed in fire, consumed by a heavy flavor in the air as he walked Bella back to her room and, as he did every night, followed her in.

He wasn't in the mood to play cards tonight. His hands hadn't had enough of Bella's body. His mouth, his tongue, was hungry for hers. His skin was too hot—a sure sign he was wearing too many clothes. His mind was chaotic with questions he _needed_ answers for. He needed to know how her body felt beneath his, how the skin of her belly felt under the pads of his fingers. He wanted to know if the curls that covered her sex were the same hue as her hair, if they were similarly streaked with red.

He wanted to know if the rest of her body was as responsive as her lips, if her hips would rise to meet his, if her legs would spread to welcome him or if he would push them open, his palms on her thighs.

When they entered her room, Edward pulled her into his arms again. She moaned—a tiny sound—and he was almost undone. He crushed her to him, his hands on the small of her back. He rubbed in circular motions, pushing his tongue past her lips. He ran his hand lower, over her ass. She whimpered again and wound her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Edward walked her backward, sitting her down on the chaise lounge. He pushed her gently backward, holding himself up on one arm but lining up their bodies. Her kisses were making him drunk and starved all at once. He let more of his weight down on her.

Perfect. That was how she felt underneath him. Her body pushed up against him. Her hands tugged at the hair on his neck.

He thrust on her once, twice. She made a tiny noise in the back of her throat.

It took him a full minute to realize she wasn't responding as well as she had been. He pulled back, breaking their kiss. Her eyes were closed. Her hands fallen limp at the side of her head.

"Bella." He cupped her cheek. "Please look at me."

She opened her eyes slowly. "I'm sorry."

He braced his arm around her back and pulled her into a sitting position. He rubbed her back. "Where did you go?"

"I'm sorry, My Lord."

"Edward."

Her eyes found his. She looked so uncertain and scared, it broke his heart. "I'm sorry, Edward."

"Don't apologize." He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. She flinched. "Please tell me what you're thinking." He ran his fingers through her hair. "You're scared."

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes again and shook once—a full body tremor. "I'm being silly."

"You aren't silly, my love. Not at all." He crooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. "Please tell me what you're thinking."

Her eyes were wide but cautious as she looked on him. She swallowed hard. "The king spoke of the things he would do with his wife." Her voice trembled. "My L… Edward. My mother and father were very fond of each other. Oft, I would find my mother on my father's lap. He would touch her only with love and tenderness." She wrung her hands. "But the king would tell me I didn't know what happened behind closed doors. That a man may do what he likes with his wife, and none shall come to her aid should she cry. He said my mother was simply a better woman than I could hope to be, and took what was coming to her."

Edward clenched his fists. "Bella—"

She shook her head, looking at him for a beat before she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together a moment before she spoke again. "My… My husband, you've been so good to me. And patient. I know what you've done for me, the time you've given me, isn't proper." She ducked her head. "I'm not proper."

"Bella—"

"No. I know what's expected of me." She raised a tentative hand and put it to his cheek. She opened her eyes and looked into his as though she were looking into his soul. "I don't think you'll hurt me, husband," she said in a whisper. "But there was…" She dropped her gaze, her cheeks turning pink. "There was a woman I knew to be a whore. I saw her leaving the king's chamber." She shuddered. "It seemed to me that all the king swore he would do to me when we wed, he'd done to her."

Edward grimaced. "I didn't know you knew about that."

It wasn't something he'd want anyone to know, let alone his young, frightened wife. The king had asked for a whore to whet his appetite. A bevy of beauties was paraded before him, and he'd chosen one. And though any whore had experience enough with even the oddest perversion, she had come away from the King's chambers white as a sheet and covered in bruises and blood.

Not looking at him, Bella again swallowed hard. "It wasn't a surprise. What he did to the woman, I mean. It wasn't a surprise at all. It wasn't anything less than what he promised me." She shivered. "And there were some things he said any man would want of his wife. Things that I don't believe would bring us children."

He sighed and cupped her cheek. "My sweet girl." Leaning forward, he kissed her chastely on the lips. "There are things a husband and wife may do together without begetting children. However, I think you might find many of them enjoyable."

The look on her face then was so dubious, Edward chuckled. He cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for another kiss. It was a gentle kiss, testing. She sighed against his mouth and tilted her head up into his kiss.

Gradually, her body relaxed again. Her arms wound back around his neck. When he pressed his hand to her back she sidled closer to him.

He kissed a line up her cheek to her ear. "Bella, will you let me touch you?" He kissed the skin right beneath her ear and let his hands crawl down her sides. "It won't hurt. I never want to hurt you."

She pulled away slightly to look in his eyes. "I believe you won't hurt me," she said in a whisper. "I don't know why I'm still scared."

He thought he knew why. Her trust had been shattered. Her parents, who'd loved her well and doted upon her, had given her away to Felix. It had been a good a match, truly, and Felix had been charming at first. She had seen Jane be a good, gentle mother to her own girls, Felix's little sisters, and had thought she would be a wise mother-in-law.

Then they had all hurt her, and she'd become a prisoner. Gilded cage or no, Bella was no fool. She knew what happened to prisoners. More directly, she knew her value as a highborn lady. These years she had lived at court, she had known there was always the chance some lesser lord would try to get a child on her. After all, her brother's life hung in the balance. Should Emmett Swan die without offspring, Bella's son would be heir of Rainfall. It was no small amount of power in question.

Bella's virtue was near about the only thing that hadn't been taken from her. Her trust was so broken, it could take years before she could let herself believe she could trust him with her body. The problem was that there were too many eyes on them.

That, and Edward was ravenous for her.

Edward stood up, bringing Bella up with him. He took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. He pulled her close, his hands at her waist, and then he turned her around.

Instantly, she tensed. "Shhh," he murmured in her ear, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest. He kissed her neck. "My nephew is a horse's ass," he said, nipping lightly at her skin. "A man who brutalizes his wife doesn't deserve one."

He let his fingers run in light circles at her belly. "What is between a man and a wife is sacred," he said against her ear. He traced a line further up. Up, kissing her cheek, her chin, her neck as he did so. "I swore a solemn oath giving you my name and protection." He used his nose to tilt her head to the side so he could have better access to her neck. "I swore that your happiness was in my charge." He drew his fingers along the underside of her breasts and smiled at her sharp intake of breath. "Do you recall?"

"I...yes."

"Does this hurt, Bella?" He cupped his hands over her breasts.

She whimpered. "No?"

"Was that a question?" He brushed a thumb over one nipple and then the other.

"No." She was breathless.

"Kiss me." He rumbled the words at her cheek.

Bella turned her head, catching his lips. Her eyes were closed. She cupped the back of his head, her fingers in his hair as she responded to his kiss. She made tiny noises that he caught on his tongue.

Taking a taste had been a mistake. He wanted it all. Everything. "Can I see you?" His voice had become a low, gravelly thing—like he was parched, which wasn't inaccurate. "All of you?"

"I...oh. O-of course, My Lord."

Back to that again. "Bella." He teased her lips with his. "Am I going to hurt you?"

"No." She followed his lips when he pulled back a fraction.

He allowed her the barest hint of a kiss. "May I see you? All of you?"

She opened her eyes, finding his. They were dark. With lust? Was that the reason a coil tightened in his cock? "Yes," she whispered.

He pulled back from her. His fingers made quick work of the ties that held her dress to her body. From one breath to the next, her dress fell from her shoulders.

Edward didn't think he'd ever stopped to admire the shape of a woman's back, the slender and delicate curve of her shoulders before. He pushed her hair off one shoulder and dropped kisses along her back. She shivered. He wrapped his arms around her again and pressed his palm over her heart. Her heartbeat was erratic.

"You're not wearing a bodice." Her breasts were warm and soft in his hands. He took her nipples between his fingers.

"Ah-ah. Oh. I…" She licked her lips, tilting her head back against his chest. "It was hot. When I dressed."

He rested his cheek against her shoulder. "You're quite warm."

She laughed—a wispy sound that trailed off as Edward pushed her dress off her hips. Her breath caught and held.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, tracing a single finger along the curve of her hip, across her ass. "My sweetling, are you at all aware of how beautiful you are?"

Before she could think to answer, he swept her into his arms. Her eyes were hooded as she clasped the back of his neck, and she bit her bottom lip.

Still scared. He laid her in her bed and leaned over her. He drew the back of his knuckle down her cheek. She flinched, but quickly corrected.

"Am I going to hurt you?" he asked, trailing his knuckle down her body.

She took a sharp breath and shook her head fractionally.

She wasn't sure. Almost, but not yet.

Edward dropped a kiss on her trembling lips. He kissed her chin. Her neck. He dotted kisses along her breasts. She rested a trembling hand on his back. He straightened up, suddenly too hot himself. He took off his shirt and returned to his task with gusto, taking her nipple in his mouth.

No. Not enough. Not even as she squirmed beneath his mouth and hands. Not even when she made those shuddering little noises that he quickly listed amongst his favorite things in the realm.

He kissed down her stomach and rested his hand on the thick thatch of tangled curls. She whimpered, and a glance showed him she was clutching the bed covering so tightly, her knuckles were bone white.

"Bella."

She released her breath in a gasp. "Yes?"

"Am I going to hurt you?"

Another head shake. The lust had faded from her eyes. She was terrified.

"Can I touch you?" He'd promised her he would only touch her if she asked. This, he knew, was cheating, but he thought perhaps a traumatized, innocent woman of her young age might need a little guidance.

As he fully expected she would, she nodded. She was a good girl, an obedient wife.

Her legs didn't open to welcome him. He pushed them open.

Then, he lowered his mouth between them.

"Oh!" Startled, Bella's body bucked up. Edward had been prepared. He pressed her back down with a gentle pressure, exploring the length of her slit with his tongue. She was wet and welcoming. "What are… What… I… I… oh, by the old gods."

Her hand was on his shoulder, in his hair. She writhed, as though trying to get away from him—a nervous response—but she kept her legs open. And as he lowered his lips to press his tongue deeper inside her, she stopped trying to get away. Her hips bucked up to meet him.

"Edward," she said on a breath. "Edward. I… I don't know… I don't know… Ah." Her hands flailed, smacking him about his back and head.

He reached up, taking her hand and threading their fingers together. He raised his head a bit and took that curious little nub between his lips, flicking his tongue against it.

Bella's body jolted, and she pressed her free arm over her mouth when she screamed.

Edward straightened up, kneeling, looking down at her. She was flushed and breathless, her tits hard as her chest heaved. Her eyes were wide with some expression that was partway between shock and boneless satisfaction. "Gods, you're perfect. Look at you."

She pressed her lips together and curled her legs up. Her cheeks flushed a different kind of red. "I… I don't know…." Her eyes found his. "Was that...proper?" she whispered.

He laughed and laid on his side beside her, propping himself up on an elbow. "I most certainly hope not." He sighed and kissed her, sharing her taste. "Did it hurt?"

Her cheeks flamed red. She bit her lip, though now she didn't look scared. She shook her head.

He kissed her again and straightened up, pulling the coverlet over her nude body. "Sleep well, darling. I'll send your lady to you."

Her brow furrowed, and she sat up, clutching the coverlet to her chest, as he stood. "Edward?"

"Yes, lovely?"

"I…" She looked so confused. "Should we not do what's right? What's expected?" Her eyes flitted down and quickly back up.

Edward smirked. His erection was obvious. "You do things to me, my beautiful wife."

"But won't it hurt you? To be like that?"

He laughed, and she ducked her head. "Oh, precious." He put one knee on her bed and leaned in to kiss her again. He stroked his fingers down her cheek. "I shall survive; I promise you. It's nothing I haven't had to take care of many times in my life."

Bella's expression was delightfully scandalized, but, ever the brave soul, she made an attempt to look serious. "But it's right for a wife to attend to her husband."

A warmth spread throughout his chest wholly different from the fire of desire. He did adore this girl. This woman. She was nervous about what she'd offered. He could see that by the way she twisted the coverlet in between her fingers. Still, she looked on him steadily so that he might know she wouldn't refuse him.

He'd already known that. The gods knew his cock was well aware he could have her anytime he wanted her. Bella knew her duty.

Leaning forward, he kissed her once more, lingering this time. "Ask me. When you're ready."

She opened her mouth, but he put a finger over it, silencing her. "When you're ready," he repeated.

He was rewarded by the smallest of smiles—a little uncertain, but soft.

Novel, he thought as he looked on her beautiful face. He was almost certain he was falling in love with his wife.

* * *

 **A/N: Sooooooooooo.**

 **How goes it?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: And another weekend draws to a close...**

* * *

In the wake of their mother's death, Emmett was on the warpath. His people killed two of the king's best generals in covert attacks. The ensuing battle had seen losses on both sides, but Emmett won. His win and his fervor had drawn attention and support from nations across the Wide Sea. His fleet of ships had doubled.

Bella was ecstatic. Every victory meant her brother was alive, and the forces surrounding him stronger.

Bella was also terrified. This was the biggest win in Emmett's campaign against the king. Felix was a child; it didn't take much to set him off. The mere idea that someone didn't wish to fall to their knees in supplication drove him to hysterics. He bragged often and loudly how pathetic Emmett was, called his manhood into question. When Emmett continued to put his forces to shame, the King was infuriated.

This king didn't suffer blows to his pride. He'd inflicted heinous acts of retribution even on drunken patrons he happened to overhear berating him. Bella had some idea what Felix would do if he ever managed to take Emmett prisoner. She knew because he'd told her in great detail each and every time he'd beaten her in his stead.

Bella was in one of the castle's many sitting rooms, helping the Queen Mother, the king's intended, Lady Renata, and all their ladies to sew banners for the valiant soldiers to march with. When news of Emmett's win reached them, she kept her head down though her hands began to shake.

"Did you hear what news Chelsea brings us, Isabella?" the Queen Mother said, her voice carrying across the room.

Everyone else stopped talking. Bella breathed in through her nose and raised her head. "It's heartrending news. We must bring General Demetri's widow here to us to lend what comfort we can."

The other women murmured their agreement, and Jane's lip twitched in irritation. She nodded to the others. "Come. We must show our support to our king in this most difficult time."

Bella went through the motions, helping the others put their sewing away. Then, she fell in line beside Corin. She was a shy, quiet woman, who had never said an unkind word to anyone, let alone Bella. She would never befriend her, but she did reach out to take Bella's hand, squeezing it quickly as they walked.

Typically, when this happened, Bella kept her head down, as though somehow the king wouldn't see her if she wasn't looking at him. But today was different. Today, she was no longer the sister of the enemy and the daughter of the traitor. She was Edward's wife, the king's aunt by marriage, and she had no cause to be ashamed.

Bella held her head straight and tall as they approached the throne room. Her step faltered though, when she heard Felix screaming.

"You say I'm surrounded by the finest minds. That my armies have the finest generals, and yet that little welp of a nothing continues to defeat them. He is _nothing._ He is grime beneath my feet. He is nothing, and I want him eliminated."

Bella glanced around, but she didn't see her husband anywhere. She did see his friend-the Grand Alchemist Carlisle-in the crowd. The man spotted her, and she thought he looked horrified. He took a step toward her, but Bella was distracted by the king's bellow.

"You!" Felix leapt up off his throne and descended the steps toward the group of women, his eyes intent on Bella.

"Your Grace." Bella swept into a low curtsy, hoping to beat him to the punch. "I've heard the news that the traitor escaped again. This is most distressing news. Perhaps he has sold his soul to the gods of darkness."

The king had reached her then. He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her forward, away from the other women. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. He drew her up to him, tilting his face menacingly close to hers. "Will you have me believe you're not praying for his victories?"

Bella let her eyes go wide as though scandalized. "Of course not, Your Grace. I pray only for his death, and for the happy news of your ultimate victory."

"Your Grace." Aro Masen's voice, calm and stately as ever, cut through the din. He made his way toward them, his eyes on his grandson. "Lady Isabella has thoroughly renounced her traitorous family."

Bella had never been happier to see her father-in-law. She knew well enough the man didn't interrupt for her benefit. Rather, it went against decorum for the king to bloody a member of his own family, a married woman no less.

"Has she?" Felix spoke to his grandfather but continued to glare at Bella. "You wouldn't know it from the things my spies tell me."

Brows furrowed, Bella tried to think what he meant. It mattered little as he was more than prepared to make his case.

"Your brother was most bereft to hear of your forced marriage," Felix said. "He has plans to rescue you from your most unhappy circumstances. He believes you're my prisoner." He tugged on her wrist so she stumbled, crashing into him before she righted herself. "If you're a prisoner, does that not make you also my enemy?"

Dread made it difficult for Bella to think on her feet. One would have thought she'd be used to it by now. She swallowed hard. "My brother labors under the mistaken premise that I'm on his side. I am not, Your Grace. I have always been and remain loyal to the crown. I am most happy in my marriage to my good Lord Edward. Had I been forced to marry, would I not scream and beg?"

Someone off to the side, Lord Afton she rather thought, scoffed. "No, for the coward has given you no reason to scream."

As though on cue, one of the side doors opened. Edward strode in with Carlisle close behind him. Her husband looked furious, and for a wild moment, she thought he was mad at her. He reached for her, taking her opposite arm. "Your Grace, I can promise you, my wife knows nothing about the movements of any army, neither ours nor the traitor boy's."

"I wouldn't put it past her. We were just discussing her allegiance," Felix said, not letting her go.

Edward shouldered his way bodily between them. When Felix released Bella, he pushed her behind him. "My King, I trust that you're not suggesting Isabella is anything but a biddable wife and servant to the House of Masen, the house of your own mother."

Bella took a deep breath and took her place at her husband's side. She should stand with him to reinforce his claim.

Felix looked between them, and his scowl turned into a dangerous smile. He nodded his head regally. "Of course, Uncle. You're right. I cannot suspect Isabella anymore than I could suspect you."

Edward's cheek twitched. He reached to his side and took Bella's hand. "We don't wish to disturb you further, Your Grace. We shall take our leave."

Felix looked to Bella and, Gods help her, she couldn't help herself. She smirked at the king. Just a touch to the corner of her lips, but she knew it was a mistake. He narrowed his eyes.

Edward gave her hand a tug and led her quickly away from the throne room. Bella's heart pounded, adrenaline singing in her veins. Her husband was walking so quickly, she was running. Thus, she was breathless when they got to his room-the closer of the two.

"My Lady. I'm so sorry." He took her face in his hands looking at her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

He dropped his hands to her waist and looked her over. He took her right hand and pulled it toward him. Her wrist was red where the king had grabbed her. "That son of a bitch," he said under his breath.

"I'm fine," Bella said again. "You came for me."

"Of course." He brought her wrist to his lips and kissed her tender skin. "He won't hurt you again, Bella. I swear it."

What she wanted was to stand straight and tall and say she wasn't scared. But when she lifted her head to face him, her lower lip began to tremble. He said nothing but gathered her close, stroking her hair as she shook and tried to catch her breath. He walked her to his bed, pulled her into his lap, and held her, rocked her as she got a hold of herself again.

"You came for me," she whispered again when she was calmer. She traced the lines of his face, marveling. "I'd stopped praying that anyone would come for me."

Years ago, it had seemed to her that someone would speak up. She knew that some of the court reveled in her pain. It was entertainment to them. Like the king, they wanted to punish someone for their own helplessness. But she'd seen others. Those who, like Corin, looked at her with pity in their eyes. She'd been hurt often enough that she had no pride left. She would take their pity if only it meant one of them would make the king stop hurting her.

None of them ever did. They might take her aside and tell her what to put on her cuts and bruises to heal faster, but they never stopped him.

"Bella," he whispered. "I tried to stop him. Every time I could, when I could get there in time."

She stared at him, confused.

"You never looked at me," she said quietly. "I was always relieved when you were there, but it didn't seem to me like you did it for me. It felt more incidental. You hold the king in contempt for any number of reasons and never withhold a barb. I was relieved for your distraction, as it gave me time to slip away unnoticed."

It was well known at court that Edward had a sarcastic streak, and he was known to have a sharp tongue with the king. Bella had always thought of him as arrogant in that way-defiant because he could be.

"You never looked at me," she said again, ducking her head.

"No, I didn't." His words were soft, and he stroked the back of his knuckles against her cheek. "If he thought I did it because I cared about you, he would have hurt you more just to spite me."

Bella raised her head, looking at him in surprise.

"I was always aware of you, Bella, and I have long admired you." He drew his fingers along her cheek, crooking one knuckle under her chin. "Brave, brave child. A delicate mouse in a pit of vipers." He kissed her temple. "I try not to spar with the king unless it's something, or someone, that matters. He's the type to count each slight and take his retribution where he can."

"Like marrying you to the traitor's daughter?"

Edward smirked and kissed her sweetly on the lips. "My father's idea, though I'm not altogether uncertain the same rationale doesn't apply. It was a politically sound maneuver, but I do think he was trying to punish me." He kissed her again. "Though he quite failed in that regard."

Bella smiled slightly and obediently raised her face for another kiss. He pulled away after a moment, studying her. "Bella." He moved his hand to her back, rubbing in slow circles. "You know you can tell me when you don't want me. Not even a kiss."

Before she could comment to that, he shifted, setting her on the bed and putting some distance between them. She couldn't help her relief, as much as she didn't want to feel it. She wanted to revel in her husband's kisses and tenderness as she had so many nights that week, but adrenaline had drained away into anxiety.

"I'm sorry," Edward said. "I forget, sometimes, what this must be like to you. It was wrong of me to refer to you as a punishment even in jest. Particularly when the king so recently tried to use you as a means to spend his aggression."

He took her hands and squeezed them. "Bella, I swear to you, some day you will know that your body and your will are your own. This will not always be your life." He massaged her fingers one at a time. "Someday, you will be the mistress of a fine home. You'll be the lady that your crofters look to. Where you go, you will be looked on with naught but respect. You will fear nothing and no one." His smile was sad as he raised a hand to cup her cheek. "Not even me."

 _ **~Edward~**_

For a week after Emmett's victory, Edward kept Bella in his room. He slept on the couch, leaving her to his bed. Evenings, when they practiced with her new sword, they didn't end up entangled in each other's arms. She was too much on edge for that, and he wanted to make it clear he wouldn't encroach on her when she needed space and bodily autonomy.

Edward had never thought he'd be married. Now that he was, he didn't want what many men he knew had-obedient wives who publically nodded and bowed to their husbands every whim and privately held them in contempt. He wanted what Carlisle and Esme had-a true partnership. In public, she played the part of the agreeable wife, letting Carlisle lead, but the fact of the matter was simply that they agreed.

That and Esme genuinely enjoyed her husband. Edward had seen her initiate a tender kiss-or a more passionate one, for that matter-as often as he'd seen Carlisle do so. She did not kiss her husband, as his sister had, to manipulate him. She did it simply because she adored him. Because she wanted to.

Before this last upset, Edward had thought there were times Bella wanted to kiss him. For that matter, he thought she wanted to trust him. Still, a large part of her held back from even speaking her mind, let alone giving the gift of her kiss of her own volition.

She was a very strong woman, but wounded, confused, and very young. He thought she wanted to like him. Perhaps she even wanted to love him, but she hadn't convinced herself she could yet.

He also wanted to say they had all the time in the world. Had he thought of wedding, after all, he would have wanted to woo a girl-gain her trust and admiration before he ever laid a hand on her. He considered himself a philosopher, and had read many writings by men who wrote of what it was to _know_ a woman. To have her, heart, mind, body, and soul. And that, to him, was far preferable than to simply have dominion over her body.

Still, such was not the case for them, and Edward knew only too well that people were watching. His father was one, but he was sure there were others who knew the truth of his relations-or lack thereof-with his wife. For a wife to be cold to her husband was a dangerous thing.

After a week, there was another battle. Emmett Swan was forced to retreat, and the king strutted about as though he'd claimed some major victory. Bella returned to her room, and they returned to their old habit of cards and conversation, with the odd swordplay lesson thrown in.

"I'm having a dagger made for you," Edward told his wife conversationally. "It would be ostentatious and unseemly for you to carry a sword at court, but it seems to me that a dagger can be easily concealed. You may slip it into your carrying bag, or I shall have a specially made holster to keep it concealed in your sleeve. In any event, tomorrow we shall interrupt our sword lessons to teach you more about the fine art of driving a dagger into a man's heart."

Bella looked at him, her eyes wide. He had to cover a smirk. "Would you enjoy that, wife? Or do you think it ghastly."

"Do you mean I could have it on me at all times?" she asked, incredulous.

"I can't see why not. I always carry a dagger tucked into my boot." He lifted his foot and showed her. "And many men carry their swords and daggers about. Why should you not?"

Bella laughed and put a hand to her flushed cheek. "I cannot think if my father would roll over in his grave to know my husband gifts me not with jewels and fine combs, but with swords and daggers." She laughed again.

"Would you like jewels and fine combs more?"

Smiling, she shook her head. Then she flushed again, looking uncertain. "Do you know how to shoot a bow?"

"Of course. Would you like to learn that as well?"

Her eyes danced with pleasure. Edward had enjoyed designing first a sword and then a dagger for his wife. He was not as well-versed in bows, but he knew Carlisle's son, Jasper, was an excellent bowman. He made a mental note to send a letter to him. "So it will be done, wife, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. First, you will become proficient in daggers as you are in swords. You're coming along quite nicely there."

They passed several hours until the night waned into the early hours of day. When he took his wife's leave, she stopped at the doorway, her eyes gentle and her head tilted up. He thought she wanted his kiss, and so, he tilted his head to oblige her. He kissed her softly and sweetly, intending to pull away. But it had been too long, and he lingered. He lingered and let his tongue press against her lips, begging entrance. She granted it, and he held her tightly against him, exploring her mouth and eliciting her precious, soft sighs as he did.

When his head began to get too muddled, his cock begging for attention, he pulled away. "Good night, my beautiful wife," he murmured, kissing her chastely.

He was buoyant when he left her rooms. So buoyant that when he found Angela, he took the young maid into his arms and danced with her about the corridor. She laughed. "You're in a rare mood tonight, Lord Masen."

"So I am," he agreed, keeping a hand on her shoulder even as he let her go. He tilted his head in so he could speak softly in the still of the night. "You will see to my lady?"

"Of course, My Lord." She tilted her head, her expression teasing. "I've waited up this night to attend to her."

Laughing, he kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Angela. I'm glad she has you."

He let the maid go and continued down the corridor, smiling and happy until he rounded the corner and came up against none other than the king himself.

"Your Grace." He nodded, his tone easy though he was automatically on his guard.

Felix smirked. "The maid, Uncle? Grandfather would be most displeased."

Edward's eyes narrowed, and he had to work to keep his tone even. "I don't take your meaning, Your Grace. I was simply having a word with my wife's maidservant."

Felix scoffed. "A word. You have no need to speak carefully around me. I know to whom you're married. I know of her coldness. It's no surprise that you may seek your pleasure elsewhere."

"Your Grace speaks out of turn," Edward said, an edge to his voice and his fists clenched at his sides. "My Lady is beyond reproach."

Again, Felix scoffed. "Your lady is a whore with a title."

Before he could think on it, Edward struck the king hard across the cheek.

Felix was large and naturally strong. Because of it, he thought he need not take lessons on fighting and defense. As such, when he rushed at Edward, it was no difficulty to have the king on his back, his boot against his throat. All the fierceness left Felix's face, and his eyes went wide. Before he could call out, Edward put pressure on his throat, cutting off his shout. "Speak of my wife again, and you will regret it, _Your Grace_." Edward sneered the title. "Touch her again, and I will end you, boy."

With that, he took his foot off the king's neck, and hurried down the hallway before he could make good on his oath right then and there.

* * *

 **A/N: So far, my favorite names that Packy and Mina have come up with are Fuckface Rex for Felix and Grandad Asshole for Aro. Bwah hahahaha.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: If it's Thursday for you, then my newest ofic is currently available for purchase on Amazon. It's called Spaces Between Notes (no connection to my fic of the same name).**

 **My other three books, Finding Purgatory, One to Tell the Grandkids, and Duplicity are also available free of charge through Friday.**

 **You can find all my work on Amazon under Kristina M Sanchez.**

 **Thank you so much for your support.**

 **Synopsis for Spaces Between Notes:**

 _ **Nikolai Amorosa is one of those men's men. You know the type—allergic to feelings, couldn't have a heartfelt discussion if he tried, which he never did. Then, he lost his voice, and any chance of communication went out the window.**_

 _ **Unable to speak or otherwise interact with anyone, Niko's anger was off the charts. It could've been worse; he could've been in jail. Instead, he found himself doing construction on Carys Harper's house. Carys talked—a lot—both with her voice and her hands. She was also at the beck and call of her deaf little brother, Benny, which drove Niko nine kinds of crazy. Not that he would've said anything, even if he could.**_

 _ **Something else that drove him crazy? Carys was stubborn. She wouldn't let him wallow. More than that, she seemed to hear all the things he couldn't say. She understood him like she understood music. She heard what existed in the spaces between notes. She knew that sometimes silence screams the loudest.**_

* * *

"Bella." Edward quickened his step, spotting his wife as she walked with the other ladies, following the Queen Mother somewhere or another. She turned at the sound of his voice, and a wide smile broke out on her pretty face.

"My Lord." She hiked up her skirts and walked to him at as brisk a pace as could still be deemed ladylike.

"Isabella." The Queen Mother frowned at her.

Edward reached out his hands to take his wife's in his. He looked to his sister and gave a polite nod. "I'll have My Lady back to you presently, Sister."

Jane scowled, but Edward paid her no mind. He led Bella down a hallway in the opposite direction the Queen Mother was going. Once they were away from prying eyes, he took Bella's face in his hands and kissed her. She sighed into his mouth, wrapping her arms about his neck and pushing up onto the balls of her feet to kiss him back.

Quickly, though, Edward pulled back. He looked her over. "Are you all right, Bella?"

She furrowed her brow. "Yes. I'm quite well. Glad to have you home again." She ducked her head, looking at him shyly from underneath her eyelashes. "I've missed you."

Warmth spread through his chest. He'd wondered if she would miss him when he was gone.

The king's vengeance for what Edward had done, thus far, was underwhelming. That worried Edward, given that Felix's anger was anything but small. The king had ordered Edward to travel five day's ride to the south to oversee the delivery of a statue being given as a gift. Why that fell under Edward's responsibilities, he didn't know.

With him gone, Edward had worried Felix would take advantage of Bella's vulnerability. Bella had been the king's plaything—the object of the torments conjured up by his demented mind—and Felix wasn't overly fond of being told he couldn't have something.

Edward looked his wife over once more, trying to find the right words. "Had the king anything to say to you in my stead?" He kept his tone as light as possible.

The look in Bella's eyes told him she knew exactly what he was asking. A dark expression came over her features but only for a moment. She brightened. "As it happens, Carlisle and Esme's son, Jasper, and his wife will be in residence for some months. Some favor to the crown. Esme is somehow under the impression that I need practice setting up a household. I've been pressed into service finding a place for them to stay and getting it habitable. It's quite the task, and the servants given to me need near constant direction."

Edward threw back his head and laughed. He'd asked Carlisle to help him look out for Bella, knowing full well there was little the man could have done had the king come for her. A woman needed her husband's protection. Edward had tried to make that case, but Felix, of course, insisted she was as safe there in the castle as she had been before Edward married her.

Letting go of his worry, Edward tilted his head down to kiss Bella once again. "And what, pray tell, are you doing with my sister then?" His hands danced along her sides. How he'd missed the feel of her against him.

And for her part, his proper wife didn't seem to be bothered by their impropriety. She pressed back against him, her fingers gently untangling the knots of disheveled hair at the back of his neck.

"She's bound for the marketplace," Bella murmured between kisses. "I thought I would take the opportunity to get a few things I need."

"Hmm." Edward stroked his hands up and down her back and kissed her once more. "Come then, wife. As I've sent your escort on without you, I have no choice but to take up their duty." He offered his arm.

Grinning, Bella wound her arm through his. Together, they walked down into the city, heading for the marketplace.

"I'm happy I found you," Edward said. "I have a gift for you."

"Do you? Some pretty bauble I may show off at court?" she said, teasing him.

"Oh, a bauble. That may have been a fine idea. A necklace perhaps." He did love her neck. "A large jewel just here." He brushed his fingertips briefly at her collarbone. "Alas, you will have to forgive me, wife. I'm new to this marriage game, and rather than bring you something to show up the other wives, I have only brought this."

He slid his sleeve back to show her a dagger he had strapped to his wrist under his shirt.

Bella gasped and stopped, her hand going to the dagger. She looked up at him. "This is mine?"

"I could not come home to my wife empty-handed." It was a fine thing. Slim, with a tastefully jeweled handle—bauble indeed.

"But I thought you were having a dagger made for me."

"So I am. This one is for special occasions. It's more dressed up."

Bella laughed. He did love the sound of her laughter. "Do you carry a dagger for special occasions?" She hefted the thing carefully, turning it over in her hands.

"No, but then, I'm not a lady."

"I see." Bella pushed onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Edward."

"Accessibility is a problem," he said as they continued walking. "Your dresses aren't as conducive to hiding a dagger like this." He tucked the thing back into its sheath at his wrist. "Nor are your more dainty boots. Perhaps a satchel. I have seen some ladies carry one at their waist." He nodded. "We'll see if there's a good one at the marketplace. Something easy to open."

Bella smiled at him. "Yes, My Lord."

 _ **~Bella~**_

Bella hummed to herself as she worked. She sat at the desk in her room, going over the ledgers for all her purchases that day.

Behind her, Angela chuckled. "If I may say so, My Lady, I'm glad My Lord is home. You've been much lighter these last few days than you were when he was gone."

"I was worried for him," Bella said with a sigh. "It's silly, I know, but I think he's done something to upset the king."

"I haven't heard anything," Angela said, still bustling about the room, setting out what Bella would need for the night.

Bella got up and went to sit on her chair, ready for Angela to take her hair down and brush it out. "Edward wasn't pleased about being ordered to leave. Less so when the King refused to let me go with him. He's been back two nights and yet has been unable to come to me because the king has all the council running around at his beck and call." She sat back with a sigh, closing her eyes as Angela unwound the tight braids of her hair.

"Of course, the king is not yet wed." Angela's fingers were methodical. "Perhaps he simply doesn't understand a man separated from his wife need not attend anyone else; not even a king."

The room fell silent with that. Bella stared straight forward.

"I'm sorry, My Lady." Angela's voice was soft. "That was too forward."

"No." Bella's voice trembled ever so slightly as her heartbeat had picked up speed. "We're friends, Angela. You should speak your mind."

Her maid was silent for another few moments before she spoke. "You still refuse him?"

"I do not refuse him," Bella said defensively. She sighed. They both knew what Angela meant. Edward had kept his promise to let her lead. If he asked—if he pushed—she would not refuse him.

"Is it that you're frightened, My Lady?" Angela drew the brush through her hair. "My Lord is so gentle with you, and tender. You cannot think that he would hurt you."

"I know he wouldn't," Bella said. "I think that's part of what scares me; that he's so good." She swallowed hard, a fear she pushed down almost constantly coming to the surface once more. "Gods help me, Angela, sometimes I think this is all no more than a ruse. His nephew. His sister. They hate me. His father watched the king…" Bella closed her eyes, her throat tightening. "He watched, and his eyes were cold as ice. He gave me to Edward, but it wouldn't have mattered to him who he gave me to, so long as it offered him an advantage. That's why he let my engagement to Felix go on so long, though he saw what his grandson did to me.

"So why should I believe that Edward is any different than the rest of his family? Certainly the Queen Mother and the King are fond of mindgames. Would this not beat them all?" A chill went down her spine. "If he is not who he says he is, it will destroy me." She took a steadying breath. "I think that I don't go to him, because I'm waiting for his patience to run out. I'm waiting for him to take this choice from me. It makes no sense for him to be this good. If I were a pauper's wife, it would be his right to lay with me."

"So it must be a ruse?" Angela concluded.

"I don't want to believe that." Most of her couldn't fathom that it was true. She had no experience with such things, but the way her husband looked at her… That couldn't be an act, could it?

"Some of the others dither and daydream about being in your place—any of you," Angela said. "But oft I have thought I'm much luckier where I am. True, we have little agency, little power, but—"

"But I have never in my life had power," Bella said, her tone wry. "Even as a child, I was dutiful. I didn't go out to play with my brothers as I wanted to. I didn't touch swords or bows, or—"

"Daggers?" Angela asked, picking up Edward's gift.

Bella was stunned silent at that. She hadn't seen it that way until that moment. Her husband gave her power at every turn.

Angela put the dagger down again and squeezed Bella's arm. "It's a hard world you live in, My Lady. I have seen how finely honed your survival instinct has become. I cannot imagine what it takes to trust anyone in this world after what you've been through."

Bella's hands were clenched in fists at her side. She stared down at her lap, listening to the sound of the brush pulling through her hair. After a long moment, she reached a hand up, pressing it over Angela's. "Thank you."

 _ **~Edward~**_

"By the old Gods and the new, I swear this child is trying to aggravate me to death." Edward shook his head.

Beside him, Carlisle chuckled. "At least it's a clear night. A good night for a walk."

"Yes, and perhaps his undoing," Edward muttered under his breath. "I can't imagine my father will stand for this. What excuse can he possibly have for demanding a council meeting at a building across the damn city?"

"Oh, I imagine it will be the same excuse as usual. He _is_ the king, after all."

"Ordained by the gods in their infinite wisdom." Edward shook his head. He gritted his teeth, remembering the glee on Felix's face when he waved him out the door. The king, of course, would take a carriage. The rest of the council could walk.

"Calm down, my friend." Carlisle patted him on the back. "Riled up is exactly how he wants you. Whatever game he's playing, you can't win if you're not calm."

Edward grunted, but he made an effort to unclench his jaw. "Your son will be here in a few days time, will he not?" he asked, searching for a subject change.

They walked on in companionable conversation. Finally, they neared their destination. Turning the corner of the street, Edward stopped short.

The building was locked. There was no one there. He furrowed his brows. If the king had come by carriage, how in all hells had they beat him there? Edward had even gone to call Carlisle before he left the palace.

It dawned on Edward then that they hadn't. He was suddenly certain that Felix had never called a meeting of the inner council. No. He'd simply wanted Edward very far away.

"Son of a bitch," Edward yelled. Turning on his heel, he ran for all he was worth back to the castle.

Back to his defenseless wife.

 _ **~Bella~**_

Feeling a mite peckish, Bella had sent Angela to the kitchens to find her something to nibble. That had been some time ago. She must have become distracted.

Lacking anything else to do, Bella went about the business of getting ready for bed. She slipped out of her clothes and into her thin dressing gown.

When she emerged from her privy chamber, Bella stopped short, crying out in surprise.

The king was on her bed, his hands behind his head, looking as though he belonged there. He smiled—that snake-like, vile smile she hated. Her heart began to pound hard. Her eyes darted once to the desk where she knew her dagger lay, but only briefly. She didn't dare take her eyes off the viper in her room.

His devil's grin deepened. "Good evening, Lady Isabella." His tone was serene. Funny how serenity coming from him was sinister.

"Y-your Grace." She only just remembered to curtsey prettily. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Felix laughed, an unnerving sound. Nothing amused the king so much as tormenting someone. He got to his feet, his eyes, like a wild beast on the hunt, intent on hers. She took a hurried step backward as he stepped toward her. "You're quite right. I am here to bestow an honor on you," he said, walking toward her one even step at a time. "One I don't think you deserve. You see, I have heard a rumor about the court that you aren't doing your womanly duty by my uncle."

Bella pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Unnerved as she was to find herself alone with the maniac king, she was also taken aback by his rudeness. Reminding herself again that she was a proper lady and that deserved respect even from a king, she straightened her shoulders. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but that's a matter between a husband and wife. If my husband is well pleased with me, I should think that's no one's concern but his."

"Is that what you believe?" He was close enough now that he reached out to stroke the back of his knuckles down her cheek. Bella did her best not to flinch at his touch, but a moment later, he backhanded her hard enough her head snapped to the side. Only his grip on her arm kept her upright.

He leaned in, intimidatingly close, so he could snarl in her ear. "I am not your pathetic excuse for a husband, thank the Gods in their wisdom. I am your king. I am above all except the gods. You are my subject, My Lady. It's a king's duty to ensure his subjects are contributing to the good of the realm, doing their proper duty." Felix pushed her away from him, and she stumbled back, her hand to her cheek, her wide eyes on him. "Tell me, what good are you serving now, hmm? You sit at my table, eat my food, and are entertained by my players. Your one and only use is to further the proud Masen name, and you think yourself above that? You're married to the king's uncle. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position? Would fall on their knees and do whatever my uncle wanted them to?"

Bella bowed her head. So this was what he was after. It had been too long since he'd beaten and shamed her. Well, she had survived that over and again. She would survive it now. "Your Grace, it's not that I don't intend to fulfil my duty. My lord and I are simply taking the time to get to know each other first."

"I'm not interested in your excuses. My uncle is remiss in putting up with your girlish nonsense, so it falls to me to correct you. If I have to teach you how to do your duty, then so be it."

Bella's head shot up. All the blood drained from her cheeks as she processed his words. She skittered to the side as he reached for her. "Your Grace, you couldn't possibly mean—"

He took her arm in a crushing grip. "Masen blood does run through my veins, after all. It won't make such a difference if it's one Masen or another."

It was an automatic reaction to lash out as he stepped threateningly toward her. She swept her leg at his and, as he wasn't standing solidly, he fell. Bella didn't wait to see if he was hurt. She ran for the door and wrenched it open.

She gave a shriek and jumped backward when two swords clanked together, blocking her path. The king's guards had obviously been instructed not to let her out of this room.

Behind her, the king's footfalls were slow and unworried. Her skin crawled. She looked around the room wildly, trying to find some other way out, something to do, some way she could defend herself. There was nothing. Felix now stood between her and her dagger. She opened her mouth to scream for help, but the king was there. He clapped a rough hand over her mouth and pulled her back against him.

Felix squeezed her cheeks as she screamed against his hand and gave her head a hard shake. "What are you screaming at, idiot girl? No one is going to come for you. I'm the king. Do you think anyone would stop me from taking what I want?"

With one foot, he kicked at the door, and it slammed shut. It was the most sickening sound she'd ever heard, save for the swish of the axe that cut off her father's head in front of her.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, the next update will be my first priority.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, so… as always, I'm here if you have questions. Bear with me, kiddos. It's going to get a little rough. But I got your back in the end.**

* * *

When he finally got there, the hallway was silent save for Edward's wheezing breath. He caught himself on the stone edge of the wall, bent at the waist as he gasped. He looked around, frantic. He gulped and tried to steady his breath enough that he could hear. His frantic heartbeat pounded between his ears. Everything was still.

He approached his wife's room, trying to swallow down the trepidation. The King was playing childish games, messing with Edward's head. He'd probably seen Edward running and was even now laughing at his expense. All of Edward's fear was for naught. His wife would be fine.

"She's fine," he muttered under his breath. "Everything is fine."

Just as he got to Bella's door, it came open. Angela came up short with a small squeak. "My Lord. I was about to come for you."

Angela's eyes were rimmed red, Edward noted. He took the girl by the arms. "What is it? What's happened?"

She ducked her head, but not before Edward saw the sorrow in her eyes. "My Lady will not respond to me. She won't come out."

Edward didn't wait to ask what Angela meant. He pushed passed her into Bella's room. "Bella?" Not seeing her, he went on and stopped cold when he spotted her.

Bella was in the small anteroom where there was a bath tub set up. Her back was to him, her long hair flowing loose. It might have been a lovely sight save for the fact he could see she was shaking. Her hands were wrapped around her shoulders as she shook, and with good reason. The bath water had to have been ice cold from this morning.

"Bella?" he said again, his voice hoarse as he stepped forward. She didn't move, though he thought he saw her flinch. Swallowing back a wave of nerve-induced nausea, he stepped slowly around to the front of the tub, giving her plenty of time to protest. When he finally got in front of her, he let out a strangled cry.

She hadn't bathed. That much was obvious as her face was still bloodied—a line of it coming down from her nose and a small cut to her lip. Her right cheek was bruised, swollen so that it had pushed her eye partially closed. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and he wondered how many bruises he couldn't see in the dim light.

Her stare was vacant; her eyes glassy as she looked straight forward. She didn't acknowledge his presence. It was all Edward could do to keep a roar of rage at bay. He was going to put his fist through the stone wall or he was going to be violently ill.

He was going to kill his nephew. He was going to murder a king.

First, though, he needed to take care of his wife.

Edward swallowed several times, until he could be sure none of the things he wanted to scream would come out. He cast his eyes about until he saw Bella's robe cast haphazardly over the basin. Angela hovered in the doorway. She must have been unsuccessful in coaxing Bella out of the tub.

Picking up the robe, Edward stepped closer. Still, save for the violent shivers that wracked her body, she didn't move. "Bella?" He hadn't quite been able to gentle his voice, and the word came out rough with emotion. "Can you hear me?" He knelt by the tub and reached out carefully to touch her unbruised cheek.

Bella blinked, her eyes focusing on him only briefly. "Edward?"

His heart shattered at the sound—so small and lost. A painful lump rose to his throat. "Come, love. Come out of there before you freeze to death."

As always, Bella could be trusted to be obedient. She stood on fawn's legs. He didn't miss the way she winced as she slid her arms into her robe. He couldn't tell how bruised she was, though he was relieved to find her in one piece. Aside from her nose and lip, there was no blood.

"Shall I send Angela for Carlisle?" Edward asked struggling to maintain his composure. He knew full well she could be injured in ways he couldn't see. He wouldn't have been surprised if the Grand Alchemist was standing outside the door. His friend couldn't have been far behind him.

Bella gripped her robe tightly around her, and kept her eyes downcast as she shook her head—a slight movement. "No, My Lord. I'm fine." Her voice now was measured and soft. She leaned on him as he braced under her arm and stepped out of the tub.

"Okay," Edward said, not arguing the point though he'd seen her wince again. "Come, then. Let's get you warm."

Bella shuffled forward ahead of him, her body language not inviting touch. In her room, she turned not toward the bed but to the desk in the furthest corner. She sat in her chair, her arms once against wrapped around herself, and her body still wracked with shivers.

Angela bustled by Edward and set a basin on the desk along with a few fresh, small cloths. She poured water into the basin. "I'll get your other sleeping gown ready, My Lady. I can have it warmed for you in just a few minutes by the fire."

Edward looked around the room. Bella's normal sleeping gown lay in tatters by the rumpled bed. He clenched his fists, licks of flame climbing up his throat. In an instant, he was ready to breathe fire.

"No." Bella's voice startled both Edward and Angela. She didn't look at either of them, but she spoke clearly—almost normally, save for the slight monotone. "That will be all, Angela. Get yourself in bed."

Angela looked from her mistress to Edward, her expression anxious. Though Edward shared her anxiety, he nodded at the girl. "Go. And if you see Carlisle, tell him I'll speak with him in the morning."

"Yes, My Lord. My Lady." Angela nodded in deference and, with a final glance at Bella, left Edward to care for his wife on his own.

He could hardly breathe through the awful sense of foreboding. The disquieting feeling filled the room, and it made his skin crawl. Bella's calm demeanor felt terribly out of place. She didn't move even after Edward put his cloak around her shoulders for added warmth.

Unsure of what to do or say, he pulled a stool over and sat in front of her. He dipped one of the cloth towels in the basin and picked up where Angela had left off, one finger under her chin as he started to wipe the blood away.

For a moment, he only let himself assess her wounds clinically. Her nose wasn't broken.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she whispered.

Edward stopped his ministrations. "You're sorry?" he said on an exhale. "For what could you possibly be sorry?"

"What he took was yours by rights."

"Bella." He sat back wanting to destroy something—specifically Felix's face—and wanting to fall to his knees to beg her forgiveness all at once. "What he took he took from you."

To his surprise, she laughed. It was an angry, bitter sound. "What he took was not mine. It was never mine." She shivered and pulled his cloak tighter about her shoulders, not looking at him. "I spent my childhood being groomed to belong to someone my parents would choose for me. I wore what was proper. I learned to be a good, biddable wife. I learned how to make my future husband proud, and what would embarrass him. All of it so the most advantageous lord would find me pleasing.

"This?" She gestured around the room. "Do you think I'm surprised? I've been waiting for this for two years. My parents gave me to him, and from the moment they did, he has owned me. My body was his to do with as he liked. He has shamed me, ripped my clothes from my body for the entertainment of his subjects. He's beaten me when the whim strikes. When he wanted me beside him at the dinner table so he may watch my face as he says nasty things, I had no choice but to go and sit beside him, to eat, to pretend I thought it was funny—the things he said about my family.

"And beyond that, I am a spoil of a war I have no say in. Like all women. That is our role in war, is it not? You said yourself you were but a child when your city lay under siege. You cowered with the women, unable to protect yourself. You know what happens to the women, My Lord. You know what happens to the women after the traitors are dead. You think I did not know that the only reason I was not given to the others, passed between every sneering soldier and sycophant that pleases him on any given day, was because I belonged to the King? I was his until he gave me to you. Him and your father. What I wanted, _who_ I wanted was never my choice.

"So no, what King Felix took, he took from you. My body has never been mine. You gave me that gift, My Lord. You gave me the gift of my choice, but there are masters I must serve above you. I thought that our union, blessed by the gods, could protect me. But a king, too, rules because the Gods will it, and so what the King wants, he may take. He wanted to hurt me, and in not doing as I was taught, I gave him a new way to do so."

She drew in a breath a sharp breath and flinched back, as though she expected Edward to hit her for her outburst. He realized then that his hands were clenched in fists, his jaw was taut, his brows knitted. He must have looked like a man about to cause violence, but not to her.

Never her.

"I'll kill him," he said between gritted teeth. "I swear I'll kill him. I'll lay his corpse at your feet."

Her eyes met his, and he was surprised again to see she looked fierce. "You will not."

"He's a demon. For what he's done to you alone, he deserves to die a thousand times over. I'll end him. Something slow and painful."

"No." The word was emphatic and firm. She held his gaze, and took a steadying breath. "If you give him an excuse to kill you, he'll take it. You know he would."

Edward slammed hand down on the desk and stood up, needing to spend some of the frantic energy inside him. "I don't care," he bellowed. "Let his guard rip me to shreds; they won't succeed before I see him dead."

His battered, diminutive wife glared at him. She stood up, and it was as though she were towering over him. "Your anger is going to get you killed."

"I don't—"

"I heard you the first time; that you don't care if the cost of ending Felix's reign is your own life. Do you not think I've been that angry? I _live_ in that anger. Do you have any idea how many times a day I plot his death? You cannot imagine the violence in my heart. My blood boils inside me. I cannot fathom how you don't see it right there beneath my skin. Do you think I don't dream night and day of being the one to kill him? History would sing my praises. The savior of the realm. Gods, if only to bring my own nightmare to an end.

"But instead, I survive. Believe me, nothing unsettles him more. I am civil and biddable and sweet. I give up my anger, because I will not give him my life. I don't give him my life, because there are still those who value it. I will see my brothers again. I will survive for them, and if you can't survive for yourself, you will survive for me, husband."

He stared at her, his shoulders heaving. He was breathless with rage and awed by his wife. He gnashed his teeth. "How?" He didn't see how he could be expected to be in the same room as Felix without ripping his throat out.

All Bella's bluster seemed to leave her with a gust. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away from him. "You put on a placid face, and you pretend. Pretend you're not a prisoner. That you are as you were born—a Lord with prestige and power as I am a Lady to be honored and respected. Pretend his words don't sting, and his fists don't hurt." She shuddered, turning her back to him. "You learn when a lie forsaking everyone you hold dear will be enough to feed his cruelty." Another shiver, and this time her voice shook ever so slightly. "When the monster will only be sated by your pride or your blood, you beg."

The last word was a whisper. Bella's shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head. Her breaths became sharp. Edward's stomach churned. A memory came to him unbidden from a time before they were married, one of the many times the King took his rage out on a defenseless girl—Felix dragging Bella on her knees before his throne, screaming about he should spill her blood right there. She'd knelt at his feet, her head bent to the ground in supplication as she begged him not to hurt her again. He heard the words as though they were echoing in this room.

Edward took a step toward her. "Bella…" he began, but what could he say?

He heard her swallow and then a low whine. She shook her head in an unsettling movement. "I will not cry. He'll get no more of my tears. I swear it." But even as she said the words, her voice cracked.

Edward put a hand out and hesitated. He couldn't make this worse for her; he wouldn't. She took in a shuddering breath. He put his hand on her shoulder. When she didn't move, he wrapped his arms around her in a loose hold. She trembled, her voice a whine. "I will not cry," she whispered brokenly.

She turned in his arms, buried her face against his chest, and began to cry. It was a soft, heartbreaking sound—a quiet keen. She slumped against him, and she let them both sink to the floor. She clung to him, and he rocked her.

"I tried to fight him," she said between gasps, the words muffled against the skin of his neck. "I swear I tried."

Edward squeezed his eyes shut to fight against the pain of her admission. "Of course you did, sweetling. I know that."

Of course she would, knowing full well Felix would use it as an excuse to beat her. But how could he begrudge her? He would have fought too.

"I wanted to be faithful to you."

"Bella." He kissed her forehead. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She hadn't, but he had.

There was one thing Edward knew for certain. They couldn't stay here. She was right. They were both captives to the crown—powerless, no matter what their titles. Escape, then, had to be his priority.

He had sworn to protect his wife. He'd failed utterly at doing so. No more.

He would never fail her again.

* * *

 **A/N: Well…**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Why is the weekend gone? Someone bring it back.**

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That night, Bella fell asleep in Edward's arms, exhausted from her tears and her ordeal. She'd awakened for the second time in her husband's chambers. He was there, asleep on the couch as she slept on the bed, but he woke quickly when she moved.

Strange, she'd thought all that day. She was used to being alone after the king mistreated her. Alone to cry her misery and degradation into a pillow. Alone to lament and wish for her mother's soft hands, and her father's reassuring strength. Alone to ache for her elder brother's teasing and her younger brothers' laughter.

Alone, when her tears were dry, she stoked her anger. Her anger had always been more powerful than her shame. Felix, she'd learned long ago, craved destruction, and she'd be damned if he destroyed her. She would survive whatever torment he threw at her. She would survive if only to spite him.

So having her husband by her side as she worked through this latest in a long list of assaults was strange for many reasons. She'd have died before she let any of the rest of the court see her pain, but it was different with Edward.

After she woke, he didn't leave her side. He was wonderful—attentive without intruding on her space. He coaxed her to eat a little of the simple breakfast he'd had Angela bring them. All that day, he talked to her, telling her stories of his travels. Embarrassing stories, she noticed. Ones that made her smile in spite of the fog that had settled over her mind. She spoke little, but he didn't press her.

On the second day, he had Angela bring his ledgers to his room, brushing off his father's demands that he come to the inner council meeting. He spent that day talking to her about affairs of the realm—who owed money and for what.

This time to herself—that was something else new. In the past, she'd had maybe a few hours before she was dragged back to the court. They would send a servant to inform her that her presence was required at dinner or at her duties as one of the queen mother's ladies.

Of course, even her husband—trapped as he was in the same gilded cage—couldn't keep her away from Felix and the rest forever. That second evening, a pounding at his door made her jump. All the blood drained from her face. She stood and backed toward the corner of the room on instinct.

"Edward," a sharp voice called. He pounded again.

Bella closed her eyes. It was Aro. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to calm down.

Edward stepped to her, touching her shoulder briefly. "I won't let him in."

Before he could step away, she grabbed his wrist and opened her eyes to stare at him. As she suspected from his tone, his eyes were on fire. "You must survive, Edward." Another breath as she searched him. "For me. For us both, you must survive, and you must be calm."

They stared at each other, and they both jumped when Aro pounded again. "Edward Anthony. What is the meaning of this? Open this door."

Edward gave her a sharp nod before he strode to the door. Bella pressed herself back against the wall, unsure what to expect. She reached for her dagger—Edward had left it on his night table—and hid it in her sleeve.

Rather than open the door to his father, Edward only opened it enough that he could slip out. Then, he closed it behind him. Bella was surprised that her nervousness took on a different tenor then. She crept closer to the door and put her ear against it.

"—you did it, Father? If this is what you meant by your threats—"

"You're speaking nonsense. Be clear, boy. What is it you're accusing me of this time?"

"Please, Father." Edward spat the words. "Don't play innocent with me when we both know you are not. You're the only one who has the king on a leash."

"Lower your voice," Aro hissed. "You're not making any sense. I'm fed up of your histrionics. Whatever little fit you're having—"

"You didn't tell Felix?"

"Tell him what?"

There was silence. Bella rested her head against the cool wood. She trembled.

She had wondered, of course. Why now? For all he had enjoyed telling her what he would do when they were wed, Felix hadn't touched her like this before. He could have. Of course, he could have. No one would have blinked an eye. She couldn't wrap her head around the reason except that it had to be about Edward, not her.

No. To Felix, she was less than human. A convenient plaything. It wasn't as though he limited his torture to just her. He targeted whomever struck his fancy.

Outside, Aro broke the silence. "I don't know why the Gods took your mother instead of you, Edward, but it may yet be the only regret of my life."

Bella flinched, but Aro continued. "You will be at dinner tonight. Whatever is wrong with you, people are beginning to talk."

"I'll take dinner in my room."

"You will not. Edward—"

Bella opened the door. She gripped the hilt of her dagger tighter to keep herself from shaking too hard. "We shall be down to dinner presently, My Lord."

Aro tilted his head, his eyes going to her bruised cheek. He turned sharply to look at Edward who stared back at him, his expression hard. Challenging. He moved to Bella's side.

"I see." Aro released a breath and nodded. "The King is dining with his bride-to-be this evening and will not be in attendance." He turned and started to walk away. "Dinner with the court. Half an hour."

As soon as he was out of eyeshot, Bella exhaled. She closed her eyes, fighting back a wave of dizziness. Edward looped a steadying arm around her waist. "Shh, Bella. We don't have to go."

Bella took a deep breath and stood up straighter, looking forward. "Yes, we do." She took another breath. "Husband, you've been so good to me, giving me these days of quiet. Life goes on, and so shall we."

"It's not up to my father. You're my wife—"

"Edward." Bella raised her eyes to meet his. Her sweet husband. If this whole ordeal had wrought anything good, it was that it had erased any inkling of mistrust she had for Edward. Despite being their blood, he wasn't one of _them_. He was a pawn his father kept in check. If anything he was in more danger from the king. Though Felix needed less of an excuse to hurt Bella, he did so simply because he could. Edward, on the other hand, he actively hated.

Bella sighed and stepped closer, letting her husband wrap his arms lightly around her. "Nothing has changed," she whispered near his ear. "All that's happened is you've learned you cannot keep me safe." Her heart twisted. She too had begun to hope she could be safe even here, but that had always been a dream. "It's not your fault, husband. I haven't been safe in many years."

"Bella…" His eyes were so tortured. He opened his mouth, but there was nothing he could say. She'd had years to come to terms with the idea that safety existed outside these city walls.

"Shhh." Bella pushed up and pressed the barest hint of a kiss to his lips.

He pulled them both into his room where they clung tightly to each other. "I'm supposed to take care of you," he said, his voice rough against the side of her hair.

"You are taking care of me, my husband." She hid her face at his neck, shivering with emotion. "Before, when he hurt me, when I despaired that I might die here, I fixed in my head a dream of my life to come. I swore I would survive, so I could have some happy life with my brothers and mother by my side again."

She closed her eyes, shuddered, and took another steadying breath before she continued. "These last two days, I have fixed in my mind the hope of a new future—the life you've promised me. That's why I'll survive, because I believe now more than ever that I will be happy again. With you. When we're not surrounded by our enemies."

 _Foolish_ , some part of her screamed. How could she trust anyone anymore? Yet, she did trust him.

He rubbed slow circles about her back. " _Our_ enemies," he repeated softly, the words coming out with a hint of incredulity.

It occurred to Bella then what she was saying. The king was Edward's nephew. Likely he had held him when he was a babe, rocked him, and cooed at him. Jane and Alec were his elder siblings, and though it seemed to Bella they'd had much disdain for Edward growing up, perhaps he still had his fond memories. Even his father must have held him once, when he was a boy. Perhaps stroked his hair when he was ill.

She had told him his family, his blood, was his enemy.

Bella took a step back out of his arms. "My Lord, I spoke out of turn. I didn't mean—"

"Hush, love." He gave her a small, sad smile. "You are wise beyond your years, my darling girl. That I can find no words to refute your claim shows how naive I've been about my place here." He sighed, pulling her close again. "Perhaps they were right in what they say about me. A man who cannot protect his wife is a coward."

"No." She shook her head vehemently. "Don't you know what hope you've given me, husband?" She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill again. "I'm not alone anymore."

"Never again," he promised.

 _ **~0~**_

As Angela helped her dress and combed out her hair, Bella was lost in thought.

She hadn't been lying when she told her husband Felix's attack against her came as no surprise. Even if he hadn't had a penchant for hurting her, by now, she was well aware of a woman's lot in life.

Since she arrived in the capital city of Volterra at the age of fourteen, Bella's education about the nature of carnal relations between men and women had been vivid to the say the least. Seeing as she'd been brought to the city as the young prince's future bride, the women at court—ever catty—had taken particular pleasure in whispering things to her.

They'd told her first that the king—Felix's father—might like to have her. That was a king's right, after all. The right of first night, to bed any bride he chose. Then again, they said, that particular king acted on his desires at will. It was nothing official, but if a king wanted a lady, it was to be considered an honor. First night was his right, but he could take whom he wanted to his bed whenever he wanted. After the marriage had been consummated, the husband could expect compensation for his generosity—lending his wife to the king.

The wives, Bella had seen with her own eyes, didn't have much say in the matter. Some preened. Others seemed quiet, and ducked their heads in shame when the women pressed them for gossip.

Really, it was not limited to kings. Bella had oft heard tales. This Lady or that—sometimes married, sometimes not—was walking where she should not have been, and had fallen prey to a Lord or visiting dignitary. Sometimes, if unmarried, a quick marriage might be arranged. Other times, the young woman's father was given due compensation for his daughter's decimated brideprice. She was married quietly to any Lord who would have her, soiled though she was, or sent on to the convent.

Even the queen, for all her power, had taken some perverse pleasure in telling Bella tales of her own marriage. A wife's duty, Jane had said, must be borne, as it was a woman's lot. She had wistfully told the tale that she'd been naive enough to look forward to her wedding night. The king, her husband, had been anything but tender.

"The children make it worthwhile," Jane had said, patting her hand in that faux-motherly way that had always made Bella cringe.

Bella couldn't remember if the Lords at her father's court in Rainfall had been held to a different standard. She vaguely recalled her father executing a man who had taken a farmer's daughter against her will, but a Lord or a diplomat?

Well. She'd been very young then, at any rate.

"All done, My Lady," Angela said, bringing Bella out of her reverie. She kept her hand resting on Bella's shoulder a moment longer—a silent show of support, she knew.

Bella reached back and squeezed her handmaid's hand. She took several deep breaths and stood.

Minutes later, her and Edward's footsteps echoed as they made their way through the halls. They were late, but that was fine. On evenings when a formal dinner was called, there was always much talking before anyone settled down to eat.

"How did you do it?" Edward murmured as they walked arm in arm. "How did you walk into this room every day?"

Bella scoffed under her breath. "You find you can do many things when you have no other choice."

Just outside the door, he stopped. He turned to her and took her face between his hands. He locked eyes with her, holding her gaze as he bent forward and pressed his lips to hers. "Whatever they may say, Bella, none of it is true. None of it has ever been true."

Bella closed her eyes and nodded. She'd been doing her best to put on her mask of indifference, but trust Edward to see through it. She got so tired of pretending. "Yours will be the only voice I listen to."

With that, they went inside.

Bella could feel the eyes on her. It was a filthy feeling she never grew used to. Her skin crawled. Her pulse raced. Her stomach twisted. They all knew. They knew that she could be beaten and cowed.

It was easier though. There was always a moment when she thought her legs would give out; that her knees wouldn't hold her. That night, she had her husband by her side. She held her head high and was sure to look at no one.

"My Lady Isabella."

Bella started. She shrank back ever so slightly, surprised when she realized it was Lady Siobhan who'd appeared at their side. "M-my Lady." This woman had never addressed her directly before except to offer a general greeting or the obligatory congratulations at her wedding. She was an elder Lady—one of the white-haired crones who kept to themselves, looking down on all.

Siobhan gave her a smile and turned to Edward. "My Lord." She gave a respectful nod. "I have need of your wife, if it pleases you."

Before Edward could say a word one way or another, Siobhan had stepped directly between them. Bella was so startled, she let go of Edward's arm automatically. "Come now, My Lady. I have a question about the Grand Alchemist's son."

Bella cast a bewildered look over her shoulder, catching her concerned husband's eye as Siobhan spirited her away. She was startled again to find herself surrounded by several others Siobhan's age.

She was shielded from the rest of the court where they had her, and that made Bella nervous. Her breath came in quick bursts, and her mind began to race. She almost missed what the women were saying.

"Poor child," Siobhan said, tilting Bella's chin up to examine her bruise. "Oh. Young husbands are such brutes."

Lady Maggie snorted. "He's not a child. Old enough to know to have patience with a wife so young and with wild, treasonous parents as well."

"They have been married for some months now," said the third, Lady Chelsea. "That shows he has a great deal more patience than many men." She smiled at Bella kindly and clucked her tongue. "Oh, you poor mite. Unlucky is the new bride who doesn't have her mother's guidance. I would have expected the Queen Mother to do her duties but, well…" The Lady's lip twitched. "Her Grace has much on her mind these days."

Siobhan patted Bella's unbruised cheek. "She's right, lovey. When I was a young bride, my mouth got me into quite a bit of trouble that first year." She chuckled. "Until my mother sat me down and explained the business of marriage. Managing a house." She leaned her head in, conferring with Bella conspiratorially. "And a husband."

Bella stared, darting her eyes between them. "You think My Lord did this?" They exchanged looks, and Bella shook her head vehemently. "He—"

But what could she say? It hadn't occurred to her that Felix wouldn't boast about his conquest. If these Ladies didn't know, what could she tell them?

"You're a good girl not speak ill of your husband," Lady Chelsea said. "Lord Edward has always had a flare of temper. And goodness knows, it is a husband's duty to keep his wife in line." These words were said with some bitterness. "You'll both learn in time."

"Let us help you, Lady Isabella," Maggie said. "Tell us what you said to provoke him, or what you did. We'll help you sort it out."

They were trying to mother her, Bella realized. She had been initiated into the world of marriage with no guide, and being beaten by her husband seemed to have gained her access to a sisterhood she didn't know existed. When she glanced about, she noticed several other women—all of them married—offering her a smile of sympathy.

"My Ladies." Edward's voice was rough as he came up on them. He offered a respectful bow, but his expression was hard. "Isabella." He offered his hand.

Bella reached for him gratefully. She jumped with Siobhan touched her arm. "Come to me with an answer when you're ready," she said sweetly as Edward led her away.

Edward let out a slow breath when they got to their table. As Aro promised, the king was missing. Jane was there. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Bella's face. Bella ducked her head, but she thought she heard the Queen Mother snicker.

Bella distracted herself. She set about her duty, serving her husband from the platters at the center of the table.

Just as she set his plate in front of him, a chuckle caught her attention. Both she and Edward looked up as Lord Demetri strode up to them. The man clapped Edward's shoulder heartily. "Ah, Lord Edward. It's good to see you do know a man's duty. If ever a woman needed to be reminded of her place, it's your willful lady. Good on you, there." He reached out to tweak Bella's chin, and she cringed.

Slamming his goblet down, Edward grabbed the man by the wrist and threw it forcefully away from Bella. "Touch my wife again, and I will remove your hand for you."

Bella's pulse raced, but Demetri put his hands up, amused. "I meant no offense. I merely wished to congratulate you on a job well done."

Edward rose to his feet. Bella tried to catch his eyes, but he was glaring daggers at Demetri. She reached out and touched her fingers to his. He didn't look at her, but he drew in a deep breath. His voice was even when he spoke. "I deserve no congratulations for laying hands on my wife, My Lord. Quite the contrary."

Demetri's smile fell, but he laughed. "There's no shame in doing your duty, Sir."

"The oath I swore to my wife on our wedding day said nothing of mistreating her. Rather, I swore to honor and protect her."

Most of the eyes in the room were on them now. "It's an honorable thing to correct a wife who has strayed from the righteous path," another man, Lady Chelsea's husband, said. "Though for decorum's sake, you might limit your correction to her backside. Young Lady Bella has such a pretty face after all." The man turned back to his food as though he were bored with the conversation. "Give her a few whacks across her bare ass same as your father gave you when you were wicked, no doubt. Make her sore in her seat, and she'll learn."

Even without looking at him—for by that time Bella was staring straight down at the table, her hands clenched to keep from trembling—she knew Edward was gnashing his teeth. "A man who would hit a woman is a coward. I suppose I've lived up to my name today. My Lady Isabella has been naught but kind and good. What was done to my wife…" She heard him swallow hard. "What I did was contemptuous at best. If the gods have any wisdom or mercy, my comeuppance for this vile deed will be swift and soon."

Somehow, Bella wasn't surprised to feel her husband's hand on her arm. He pulled her gently to her feet and took her hand. "Good evening to you all," he said.

When they were out in the corridor again, Edward swore under his breath. Bella couldn't help but agree with him.

Though he had taken the blame on himself Felix wouldn't be fooled. When word of Edward's outburst reached the king he would know, as Bella had, that her husband talked not of himself but of Felix. Which meant that Edward had just wished the gods' wrath on Felix.

What their volatile king would do about that was anyone's guess.

* * *

 **A/N: SO. Betsy is voting for Wildfire (Wyldfire?). Mina wants dragons...and wants to find Aro on the privy. Basically all the people in my docs are crying for mayhem and destruction.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: My duckies, I would caution all of you not to assume you know where I'm going with any of this. Just because things are talked about doesn't mean they're going to happen (and vice versa, as we all found out together).**

 **As always, remember that you can message me at any time. I'll gladly spoil you if you.**

 **Much love, dear ones.**

* * *

"This is insanity." Edward took his wife's hands in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. "I won't leave you."

Bella smiled, though he could see the nervousness in her eyes. "You must leave me, husband, as I must leave you to your work with the king," she said quietly. "I have duties, and so have you. Life must continue as it always has. There is women's work and there is men's." She smoothed her hand down his chest, meeting his gaze. "Don't worry."

He huffed and raised his hand to brush his fingers through his hair. "You ask the impossible, Bella. I trust no one. Not even the women." He narrowed his eyes. "Especially when my sister is among them. It's as though I'm sending you straight into a pit of vipers."

"I've—"

"I know, love." He bristled but tried to keep his ire off his face. "I thought it was a shame and a tragedy that this court thought there was any justice in making Charles Swan's daughter pay for his crimes." He scoffed. "The treasonous crime of observation, no less. I thought my wife was above reproach. It's an idea I never want to get used to." With a sigh, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her temple. "They say, my dear, that it's a man's duty to lead and teach his wife." He let his lips drift to her ear. "I believe we'll survive this, but only because you're here to lead me."

With that, he kissed Bella's cheek, offered his arm, and walked her to the Queen Mother's sitting room.

Some minutes later, he found himself inside Carlisle's rooms, waiting for him to get some of his things together before they were off to the next council meeting. Edward knew he had to spend some of his poisonous energy before he found himself face-to-face with the king again. It had only been three days since the attack, and he'd imagined his nephew's death in too many ways.

"She's better than she should be," Edward said when Carlisle inquired after his wife. His friend knew, of course. Having been with him that night, he had let Edward destroy many of his vials just to hear them shatter. It had been all Edward could do to keep his anguish from Bella. She'd suffered enough. "Though as she points out, that is par for the course."

Carlisle grimaced and nodded. "I've tended her wounds after one of the king's tantrums. She has a reserve of strength I can't fathom."

Edward helped himself to Carlisle's wine, needing very badly to calm down. He drank deeply and refilled his goblet when it was empty. "She thinks Felix did this to me not her."

Carlisle was silent for a beat too long, and Edward turned to stare at him. The older man sighed. "Edward, for years now, you've been one of Felix's biggest frustrations. Not just because he can't seem to get you under his thumb, but because he couldn't hurt you."

"What do you mean?"

"Think of it. You've lived all your life without attachment. I suspect it's the one lesson your father inadvertently taught you. If there is nothing you want, whatever is taken from you won't matter. You enjoy your drink and your books, but as long as I've known you, you've had little else to your name. You've cared for nothing and no one with great fondness.

"I know you've struggled with the timing of this attack on Bella. The answer is simple. Felix has never been able to get a rise out of you. He spoke ill of Bella, and you attacked him."

"She's my wife," Edward said through clenched teeth. "What kind of a husband wouldn't defend his wife's honor even to a king?"

"Forgive me saying so, Edward, but only a fool would dare touch a king as vindictive as Felix over a verbal slight." He paused a beat. "A man like Felix cannot fathom that any man should love a woman who was given to him, and he took enjoyment in the idea that giving you a traitor's daughter as a wife would bring you nothing but shame. When you defended her, he saw that you weren't ashamed. Quite the contrary. That night, the king discovered you love your wife."

"And therefore that he could hurt me by hurting her? That's sick. That's vile."

"Two descriptors that fit our king very well."

Guilt and anger vied for their place as Edward's primary emotion. He drank of his wine. "Friend, what I need ask of you is no honorable thing. To drag you into this…" Edward shook his head and turned again to face Carlisle, to look him in the eyes. "I have no right to ask this, but I have no one else to turn to. I made a vow to protect my wife, and it's clear to me now I will never be able to do so here. So with all humbleness I have, Carlisle, I beg your help."

The look on Carlisle's face gentled. "Of course. If anything, now is an ideal time." The expression on his face became uncertain and cautious. He crossed the room and bent his head close to Edward's. "Emmett Swan counts my son among those he trusts."

Edward's eyes went wide and he took a step back to regard Carlisle. "You didn't trust me enough to confide in me," he murmured, realizing.

Carlisle put a hand to his shoulder. "It's not that I didn't trust you, my friend. It's simply that I thought it best not to cause you strife while your loyalties lay with your family. I knew, of course, that you silently cheer when Felix loses a battle, but you've never spoken or moved against House Volturi."

Edward studied his friend a long moment. "And your loyalties, Carlisle? When did they change?"

Carlisle winced. "Felix's father had a cruel streak I could only barely stomach, yet he had some modicum of wisdom as a ruler. My allegiance began to wane when I saw what kind of man Felix would grow to be. He's more than cruel. He is, as you said before, vile and sick. I knew no good could come of his rule." He grimaced. "Though I had no inkling that the realm would fall to pieces this quickly with Felix as our king."

"Everyone has a talent," Edward said, his tone dark. He cocked his head, thinking over Carlisle's words. He gave the other man a sharp look. "You're telling me that Emmett Swan has, effectively, a spy who may come and go from here as he pleases?"

At that, Carlisle looked guilty. "Jasper and Emmett have been plotting for a long while. Yes, Jasper's primary mission here is to get Bella away."

"Away from me?" Edward's heart ached.

"My friend, Emmett Swan has no means of distinguishing you from the rest of your family. All he knows is that his sister was given, without the consent of her family, to the uncle of his enemy." Carlisle grimaced. "I've done my best to let them know they have an ally in you, but what correspondence we've managed collectively is heavily coded."

"And while you could safely assume I'd want Bella far away from court—as I attempted to send her away myself—you couldn't know how far I'd go, if I'd cross my family." Edward nodded. "I understand, and I'm grateful."

Carlisle clapped him on the shoulder. "We must put it from our minds for the time being. For now, you must be prepared to face the king."

Revulsion and fury shot down Edward's spine. He clenched his jaw. He still had no idea how he was going to lay eyes on the boy without ripping him to pieces with his bare hands.

"You must remember yourself, Edward," Carlisle admonished, giving his shoulder a light shake. "He will not hesitate to goad you. Give him nothing but your indifference."

Edward's nostrils flared. Indifference. How was that possible?

Yet even as he thought the words, he knew there were worse things. A memory from years before replayed in his mind.

It must have been very early on—perhaps after Emmett Swan's first victory—because the Bella in Edward's memories was little more than a child. He'd come to the throne room late, and when he saw the newly minted king had his then-betrothed on her knees before the court, his men driving their gauntleted fists into her small body as she pleaded with him, he'd distracted Felix with witty barbs. Then, he'd helped the girl up off the floor and escorted her back to her room.

To that point, Edward hadn't given much thought to the child except to spare a pang of sympathy for her plight. The world had never been fair. If he was used to anything, it was that. As he led her away from Felix and all who had taken joy in her pain, he'd tried to murmur something reassuring. He tried to let her know not everyone thought the king was right.

She'd sniffled once, calming her staccato breaths and faced him with wide, innocent eyes. "His Grace is my dearest love, My Lord," she'd said with all sincerity. "I love him with all my heart."

At the time, Edward had merely thought she was a fool—not a shock for a child so young. Now, he knew better. If she had the strength to profess undying love and devotion to her tormentor, he could feign indifference. He could do it for her survival if not for his own.

Felix, of course, didn't make it easy. He strode into the meeting late with a booming exclamation of, "Uncle!"

Beneath the table, Edward clenched his fists. Somehow, though, he managed to rise with the rest and bow as the king took his seat. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"I fancy a tournament. A grand one that will bring the best sportsmen from all corners of my realm. No expenses spared."

Edward stared at the king. He had to bite his tongue before he started yelling. "Your Grace, this war in the north has stretched much of our resources."

"Precisely. My people are feeling the burden of this endless and pointless war the dog to the north inflicts on us. What better way to lift their spirit than a celebration?"

"A royal wedding should remedy that quite nicely," Aro said before Edward could speak again. "Your people are very much looking forward to having a queen."

"Yes, but it will be some time yet. My people need cheering now."

Edward flexed his fist at his side. The petulant king wanted what he wanted. That he was even pretending he cared about his people was actually an improvement for him. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Rather than argue, he gave a short nod and stood up.

"The meeting has only begun, Edward," his father said, his tone a warning.

"So it has, Father." It took some effort to unclench his teeth. "Lord Amun has a son who is the most talented jouster I've ever known. I may be able to convince him to sponsor part of a tournament as the King commands."

Aro sat back with a grudging nod. Edward bowed his head. "Excuse me, My Lords." He dug his fingernails into the flesh of his palm. "Your Grace." He bowed at the waist, then turned and headed for the door.

He was almost free when Felix called out to him. "Oh, Uncle?"

Edward stopped. Dread and fury pooled in his belly. He could almost feel Felix's leer.

"How does your pretty wife? I trust you are pleased with her."

Edward whirled around. It was only Carlisle's face, imploring calm, that kept him from leaping at the king. Aro cleared his throat, shooting Edward a warning look before he turned to Felix. "Your Grace, we have dawdled too long on pleasantries. Let us turn our attention back to the matter at hand."

"In a moment, Grandfather. I'm inquiring after my friend. We were intended once, after all." He tilted his head, his eyes glinting. "So, Uncle? Will we hear some happy news soon?"

Edward stared. Rage roiled through him. It made him powerful. He was going to kill a king. In this room, he was going to murder him.

Felix knew it too. He could see in the man's smile that he thought he'd won.

Edward took a deep breath. "As the Gods allow," he murmured, and then turned on his heel, walking away as fast as he could.

 _ **~0~**_

Only when Bella was back in his rooms with him, when he could see with his own eyes she was whole and untouched, did Edward calm down. Reminding himself to be gentle, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. She took his face in her hands, looking him over as though searching him for injuries.

He was wounded. Pulverized. Oh, he was angry. His fury could set the whole city aflame for what little good it would do him. But under that, he was beaten.

His family had never loved him. He'd known it, but it had never hurt like this. Really, it hadn't mattered before, but now it did. Now he had something much more precious than his own life.

"Is this what it's like to send a soldier to war?" Bella asked quietly. Her hands came around to circle his waist.

Edward gave a huff of humorless laughter. "I hadn't thought about it that way, but that's quite an apt description." Leaving her in a room full of vipers that morning _had_ felt like sending her to do battle on her own. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and lingered there.

After a moment he pulled back and took her hand. "Let us get back to your lessons." His features darkened. "You may yet need to know how to handle a sword and dagger before long."

Bella tilted her head, studying him. "You think I'll have to kill someone soon?"

"Would you?" he asked, curious. "It is my fervent hope that you would never be in that kind of danger, but would you be able to if your own life depended on it?"

Her lips turned up in a strange, sad smile. "I would kill a king for much less than my own life."

A chill went down Edward's spine. His little wife was more dangerous than anyone gave her credit for. He nodded. "Come then, my warrior princess. Let us replace our nightmares with dreams of laying ruin to this court, hmm?"

It was a dark thought but, Edward noted as they left to find space to practice, in line with his mood. He was surrounded by enemies, and that would come to a fight sooner than later.

 _ **~0~**_

They were both in better spirits as they returned to his room. Edward had been relieved to find they hadn't lost the closeness they'd shared. There was still a charge to those lessons—a feeling of seduction. Edward had to remind himself several times not to manhandle his wife in his growing passion for her.

As they walked through the corridor arm in arm, there was a pleasant warmth between them. The very air seemed alive again as it hadn't in the five long days since Felix's attack. He felt lighter than he had in days, which was odd, all things considered.

Bella was quiet as they walked, and he wondered where her head was at. He wondered if he could feel the lightness between them, and the small but strong fire that warmed the air.

They entered his room. Edward closed the door and was startled to find his wife directly behind him when he turned back. He was even more surprised when she looped her arms about his neck and pushed up to kiss him.

It was a hard kiss, and Edward had to stop himself from returning it with as much force. It had to hurt. The bruise, while so much better, hadn't yet faded all the way. The split to her lower lip was still visible. Still, he did return her kiss. He held her, running his hands up and down her back and sighing into her mouth.

Her hands splayed across his chest and lingered there for a moment. Her tongue pressed lightly against his lower lip, and he understood what she wanted. He pressed a hand to the small of her back, and deepened their kiss, showing her all the things he felt for her.

Bella's hands drifted down his chest. Her touch tickled his belly even through his tunic, and he groaned softly.

Then, her hands brushed over him between his legs.

Edward pulled back with a gasp, staring. Bella's face had gone pale, her eyes nervous. She drew her hands back as though she had been burned and looked to the ground as though in shame. She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm sorry, My Lord," she whispered.

Her touch had quite excited him, and Edward took a moment to catch his breath before he stepped closer to her. "I'm your husband, Bella. You may touch me as you wish." He offered her his hand. When she took it, he drew her carefully to his side and wrapped an arm about her shoulders. "Will you tell me what you're thinking?"

She raised her face to him, and her eyes were wet with tears. "I'm thinking I am a foolish, foolish girl. You have shown me nothing but kindness and gentleness. I…" Her look became furtive and she rested a hand over his chest briefly before she looked up into his eyes again. "I love you, Edward. I only wish I had done my duty by you while I still could."

"Oh, Bella." His heart broke all over again. He wondered if it would ever stop. He tightened his arms around her, cradling her close to him. "Do you think I don't know what our marriage was to you? For you, a prisoner, to be given to me. I know what my family is to you. What they've done to you. I never wanted you to fear me. I…" He took a steadying breath and turned her so they were face to face. "My dear one, I will lament until my dying breath that I wasn't able to protect you from the king. I will lament that the only thing you know of the act of love is what that act means to a monster." His voice came out in a rough growl with those last words, and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm himself again.

He opened his eyes when he was sure only the tenderness he felt for his wife remained. "I do not lament that you never came to me when you were as yet unwilling and uncertain. I reiterate my vow to you. I will never take from you what you're unwilling to give."

She took a shaky breath and put her hand over his against her cheek. "I am willing, husband," whispered, staring at him so he could have no doubt what she meant.

In spite of himself, his cock twitched with the automatic image. He swallowed hard. "Bella… Now…"

"Now is the right time." She closed her eyes and ducked her head, pulling away from him slightly. "Whatever else he was, the king was right about one thing. My duty is not just to you, but to your house. The king…" She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself again. "He said if I have pleased the gods, I will bear a child to the house Masen with royal blood." She shook again, her skin gone a sickly pale. "I must believe that if I've pleased the gods, the only children I will bear will be to my husband." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I must believe, after everything else, the gods will grant me this one kindness."

"Bella…" Edward was at a loss for the right words.

"It _is_ what I want, Edward." Her voice was soft but sincere. She rested a hand at his side. "The thought of your babe in my belly gives me some happiness. I know what this marriage was for you, too. I know I would not have been who you chose."

Edward shook his head vehemently. "Not because you were unworthy, love. Because I was. Because I am. A wife and children...these are not things I ever thought I deserved."

"You are a good man. Better than most." She kissed him—a tentative sweet kiss at the corner of his mouth. "I fear for us. For all of us. For you, and me, and our children should they be born here, under the thumb of our bastard king. But fate chose for us the time and circumstance of our union. I do love you, Edward. With everything I am."

Edward released a shudder of a breath and wrapped his arms around his wife. He held her against him, simply rocking back and forth on his heels. He wished so many impossible things, not the least of which was that so much horror had led to this terribly sweet moment. He kissed the side of her hair. "I don't want to hurt you," he said against her ear.

"You won't." She shivered again, and he rubbed her back to warm her. "I'm not injured in any way. The only reason he hit me at all was because I struggled."

Edward clenched a fist behind her back and hid his face in her hair so she wouldn't see his anger. His heartbeat quickened as he considered what she wanted and why. Before he could come to any conclusions, though, she had begun to press tiny kisses against his neck.

So Edward pulled her with him to his bed and onto his lap. He held her and kissed her. He guided her hands to his body and nuzzled her neck, letting her explore him with trembling fingers.

After some minutes of this, Bella stood. She turned her back to him, sweeping her hair off one shoulder so the ties of her dress were visible.

Edward stood. He could see she was shaking. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Bella." He kissed her shoulder as his fingers undid the ties. "My sweet, beautiful girl."

He murmured soft things to her, and when he was done loosening the ties, he put his hands to her waist, turning her to face him. She was staring downward, her eyes clenched closed, and tears squeezing through. "Bella…" he whispered.

"It's not you," she said, not opening her eyes. "I do want you, Edward. Only you. Always you."

"Take me, my love. I'm yours and only yours."

She opened her eyes, and he could see a hint of confusion there. Poor creature. She had no idea what power she possessed over him. He loved her so.

He took her hands and guided them again, this time to the front of his pants. She looked up at him, blinking, her cheeks pink with a blush. After another moment's hesitation, she undid the binds to his pants.

When her dress had slipped from her shoulders and his pants had puddled on the floor, he drew her down on the bed with him again. She lay back, but he could see how afraid she was when she did so. He brought her back up and helped her move so they were both sitting up, facing each other, her legs over his. "Hold on to me, love," he murmured against her ear.

She did. She shook in his arms and whimpered, but she also kissed his head, the shell of his ear. She spread her legs to welcome him, and when they were joined, when he was trying his hardest not to move as they acclimated to each other, she rocked her hips against his.

It was bittersweet, tinged as it was with her fear and his guilt. But it was still sweet and good. It was still an act of love, and when it was over, they were both trembling, tangled up in each other. Though tears streaked her cheeks, Bella smiled at him and kissed him. It was a small smile, but it gave him such hope.

She was right. There would be a time when they could be happy and at peace.

Keeping her in the circle of his arms, Edward lay back on the bed. He traced her features with his fingertips, wiping away her tears. He kissed her gently, promising silently with each kiss that their peaceful future was close at hand.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm thankful for you all. Much heart.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Star Wars, my friends. Star Wars. Like, whoa. Star Wars.**

* * *

These days, Bella felt as though she lived two lives.

There was the life she would never become accustomed to—the game she played for the benefit of her captors. It was a tiring charade, playing the part of the high-born lady when everyone—herself included—knew she was little more than a captive kept in silks instead of rags, beaten by a King instead of by a common soldier, and sold into marriage rather than slavery.

Then, there was the life she lived behind the closed doors of her husband's room. When they were together in that room, Bella could almost pretend the whole rest of the palace didn't exist. Edward made her laugh. He let her be strong and, if only for a few minutes, carefree again. She felt exhilaration when they practiced with the dagger and sword. She felt respected when he listened to her opinions and shared the goings-on of the kingdom. And though she could not quite escape the spectre of the king's abuse, she felt cherished and adored in Edward's arms.

Bella was glad that day when she woke as dawn broke. She liked the early morning, when all was quiet and the world was still. She woke that day in bed with her husband. Her heart panged but filled with quiet warmth. There was space between them, yet she had turned to him in her sleep. His hand still rested on her waist.

Her sweet husband.

They'd coupled several more times since their first time together. Bella understood fully the importance of her duty not only to her husband but to his house. Mayhap the king had wanted to see Edward married to Bella for the shame it would bring them both, but in the end, it was Aro who had orchestrated the union. Bella was young and naive in some ways, but she knew better than to think Aro a fool. When Emmett fell—as Aro had to assume he would—the people of Rainfall would give less trouble if they saw a Swan returned to their house. Rainfall would come under Masen control.

More importantly to Bella was Edward's power and place. He was the only son left to continue the Masen lineage. For Edward, a child—an heir—meant power and strength. The people of Casterly Port would begin to look to him as their leader rather than his aging father. It was likely why Aro had kept him there in the capital city rather than send him home with his bride, as would have been more rational.

No. Whatever power she and her husband had was in their blood. Neither she nor Edward could afford to pretend they had the luxury of taking her silly nervousness into consideration.

Edward, though, had been very gentle. Each night, he held her until the worst of her fears subsided, and when he did begin to move in her, he murmured sweet things against her ear. The way he held her, the way he touched her, Bella had begun to believe there would be a time when she might welcome and even enjoy their time together. She knew it was possible, knew women who spoke in hushed whispers about the delicious things their husbands and lovers did. Truth be told, her body had responded to him more than once. It was confusing, but she thought with time she might come to enjoy being with her husband in this way.

But the day before, the king had been at dinner again. Though his betrothed sat at his side, Bella felt his eyes on her all night. She'd scarcely been able to eat but a bite or two. His gaze made her skin crawl, and she felt wretched—filthy and vile.

Though the thought of being without her clothes made her physically ill, she went to her husband that night. Edward seemed to know what she really wanted without her having to say. He wrapped his cloak around her shoulders and took her out onto the veranda. He held her in his arms and told her stories about the stars. The cold air did wonders to chase away the ugliness on her skin, and Edward's chest against her back reminded her she wasn't alone.

When they finally had gone inside to bed, he'd tried to take the couch. Bella wouldn't let go of his hand, and so he'd let it rest on her waist, grounding her so she felt neither alone nor frightened.

Bella yawned. Realizing she was tired, and there was time yet until they had to be up, she scooted closer to her husband. She was surprised to find that she no longer felt shy doing things like this. He was hers as she was his. If ever there was an upside to her life these last years, it was that.

With a sigh of content—if only for these few minutes—Bella tucked herself under Edward's chin, draped her arm over his side, and went back to sleep.

 _ **~0~**_

A pageboy visited them later that morning as Edward put on his boots and Angela combed out Bella's hair for the day. He bowed grandly before Edward and nodded politely at Bella.

"My Lord. My Lady. The Grand Alchemist bids you break your fast with him and his son this morning."

Edward and Bella exchanged a glance. Edward nodded to the boy. "Tell Carlisle we'll be along."

Half an hour later, they were all out in the gardens, seated around a wooden table set out for their use. It was public, Bella realized. To give the illusion none gathered there had anything to hide, she surmised.

Jasper Cullen was his father's son through and through. He was blond, just as handsome, and kind with a roguish smile that made Bella miss her brother something fierce. Though she'd been somewhat anxious—she often felt young and foolish when sitting with the wives of other lords—Jasper set her at ease. His wife, Alice, was an absolute delight. She was witty with a sharp tongue that had made Bella giggle in pure shock. She was freer than any of the wives Bella knew at court—less refined, but much warmer. Like his father, Jasper was free in his affection toward his wife. He clearly adored her, and spoke to her as an equal. A partner.

Edward had told Bella about Carlisle and that Jasper was in Emmett's confidences. As such, it was no surprise to her when Alice threaded her arm through hers. She gave a loud, theatrical groan. "I'm full to bursting. Come, My Lady. Take pity on a poor soul. Will you walk with me about the gardens?"

Bella patted Alice's hand as though consoling. She turned to Edward. "We shall return presently, My Lord."

He looked worried. He always looked worried when they had to part. He beckoned her, and she bent to kiss his cheek. With a final squeeze of her hand, he let go, putting on a smile as he bid her farewell for the moment.

Alice chatted about nonsense as they strolled. It was only when they'd reached a quiet section near the walls of the city that Alice pulled Bella closer. "My Lady, I bring you greetings from your brother."

Despite the fact she'd been expecting it, Bella had to press her tongue against the roof of her mouth to suppress a whimper. She swallowed hard, but even then her voice was heavy with emotion. "You know him? You've seen him?"

"Briefly, yes. He fares well, and sends you this message." Alice knitted her brow in a look of concentration. "Bellalula—"

At that, Bella did whimper. It was the name he'd called her since she was a tiny child and her mother had told her the tale of a fairy named Lulalay. She had danced about their home, saying the name over and over because she liked the way it tripped on her tongue. Her elder brother had teased her, calling her Bellalula of the fairies.

Alice patted her hand and continued. "I miss you, and I love you," she said in Emmett's place. "Please know you have never, not once, been forgotten. Forgive me, sister, for all you've suffered. You shall have your revenge. I promise you that. The boys are safe. Safer than you or I, in any case. I will make you safe, too. Be strong, and trust that we'll be a family again."

Bella wept quietly. A family of orphaned children. Gods, she missed her brothers so much it was all but unbearable. She was afraid to hope.

"He's so changed," she whispered, distracting herself from that vision. "If those are his own words, he's so changed."

"I was sure to memorize his words exactly," Alice said.

"He was always happy. Even if slighted, he'd just as soon forget it as not. There was always a joke on his tongue and a smile on his face." Bella wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

"What's happened to your family would change anyone. To lose your father...and to have his mother killed before his own eyes."

Bella closed her eyes against a fresh wave of tears. Alice put an arm about her. "Then there is your lot. The injustices you've suffered, my friend. If my husband is to be believed, they drive your brother to agony."

Clenching her fists at her sides, Bella breathed deeply to calm herself. "My life isn't in danger. Not like his."

"Be that so, I have other news. I cannot make a promise, but Jasper has sworn to Emmett that if we can get you out, we will." Alice took her hands and squeezed them. "But for that, I need your help. I need to know more about your husband, and what tabs he may keep on you."

Bella was already shaking her head. "No. Alice—"

"Don't be frightened, dear one." Alice patted her cheek and grimaced. "Whatever your husband has done to you, your brother will make him suffer two-fold. I can promise you that."

"No," Bella said, a little too loud. They both looked around. Assured there was no one in earshot, she leaned in closer and spoke quietly. "If there is to be an escape, I am bringing my husband with me."

Alice stared back, shocked and perplexed. "Is it decorum that troubles you? Bella, you're not beholden to him. You were given by your enemy to his son. It brings no dishonor on you to not hold vows sacred that were taken by force."

Bella shuddered. Her wedding vows had been taken by force. That day had been one of the worst of her life. Even then, though, Edward and his kindness had been her only refuge. She looked Alice in the eyes. "I love my husband. He's a good man, and just as much a prisoner as I am. I'm sure Carlisle is explaining that to your husband even now."

"He's a Masen."

"Only by blood and an accident of birth."

Alice looked uncertain, but she nodded. She took Bella's arm again. "Well, there's some mercy in that at least. Now, come. I'll tell you what little I can, but we must get back. We mustn't call attention to ourselves. Here's what I know…"

 _ **~0~**_

"Alice told me I must always be ready. The chance to escape might present itself at a moment's notice," Bella said when they were back in his room. She turned to face Edward and reached out a hand for him. He took it and drew her into the protective circle of his arms. Bella sighed, finding some measure of contentedness there. "I told her I need two things only. My dagger strapped to my arm and my husband by my side."

Edward was silent for long moments. He was so quiet, Bella began to wonder if she'd said something wrong. Before she could ask, though, he pressed a kiss just below her ear. "Bella. My brave, Bella," he murmured, his breath tickling her skin. "You must promise me that if you have a chance to escape, you'll take it whether I'm there or not."

Ice shot down Bella's spine, and she turned in Edward's embrace to look at him. "Don't ask me to make a promise I won't keep. I won't leave you here."

Edward opened his mouth to argue, but Bella interrupted. She knew she shouldn't. She knew she should be docile and obedient, but to blazes with that. "Whatever you're about to say, save it. You're in as much danger here as I am. If I were to disappear, there is no guarantee the king or your father wouldn't endeavour to find a way to blame you."

He huffed, and she could practically see him considering and dismissing arguments in his head before he spoke. "And your brother? You won't leave me even to see him?"

Bella's heart twisted, and she winced. "Emmett," she whispered, missing him so badly right then it was physically painful. Still, she took a steadying breath. "I will see my brother again, but it has already been years. We can stand to wait. I won't sacrifice my husband for my brother's sake."

"What makes you think your brother won't kill me on sight?"

"I'm not afraid of Emmett. If you are, I promise I can protect you."

Edward's lip twitched. Another second later, he gave up and laughed. He pulled her to him again, hugging her close. "It will be an interesting day, I think, when I meet my brother-in-law again. Isn't that a strange thought? He was no more than a boy himself when I visited your father's court. Gods." He pulled back, taking her face in his hands. "And you were no more than a scamp of a girl." He smiled and kissed her gently. "You played for us, do you remember? You played the harp like an angel and curtsied so prettily. Such a well brought-up young lady."

Bella cocked her head, looking on him. "I...I don't know that I remember precisely."

"Nor should you. If I had known then what the future held." He sighed and gathered her near again. "But I could never have wished any of this on you, my love. You deserve better than me even now. Better than this and most certainly better than my name."

Bella wrapped her arms around his waist and shook her head vehemently. "I think you're the only one who does your name proud," she whispered.

The history of the other houses had been part of her teaching. House Masen hadn't always looked as hard-nosed and cold as Aro. Perhaps if the lineage had passed to Felix's namesake, the Masen name may have come to be known as cold and ruthless. Bella thought there was hope that Edward might bring honor and kindness back to his people.

She wasn't sure how to say any of that. Though she was a married woman now, thought to be old enough to have babes of her own, she felt far removed from the movers and shakers of the realm. She wasn't yet old enough nor wise enough to make history. There were no songs sung of her deeds—not like her own mother and brother.

Still, Bella was beginning to realize her place in the world. Perhaps soon she would have a voice.

Until then, she had one more thing to tell her husband. She raised her head, pressing her lips together as she tried to find the right words. This was not something spoken of between men and women—not even husbands and wives, as far as she knew. But Edward would want to know.

"Bella, are you all right?" Edward's features were etched with concern as he looked on her, taking in the change to her mood.

She nodded slowly. "I…" She felt her cheeks flush, but she pushed on. "My courses have come on me," she said in a rush. She took another breath, ducking her head. "There will be no child. Not yet."

No child of Edward's, which was a pity, but also no child of the King's.

Edward huffed out a breath and pulled her to him again. He wrapped her up in his arms, rocking her gently, and pressed a soft kiss to her hair. "The Gods have some mercy left then."

Bella closed her eyes and let herself feel the relief she'd been afraid to acknowledge. Today, for the first time in a long while, her life seemed full of possibilities again.

* * *

 **A/N:My thanks to Betsy, Jess, Packy, MoH, Mina, and Eleanor for all they do for me.**

 **And thanks for sticking with me, kids. I know it's been a rough ride so far.**

 **How's everyone?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: HELLO. I have a stuffy nose. It's messing with my ears. I thought you should know.**

* * *

"Your wife was right."

Edward quirked an eyebrow and glanced at Jasper. They were out for a ride, Edward collecting loans and introducing Jasper to the local merchants. "She has an uncanny knack for it, but what are you referring to?"

"You're a prisoner as she is."

Edward grimaced, embarrassment prickling at his skin. Having another man, a young man no less, recognize that he was under someone's thumb—not his own man—vexed him more than a little. "What makes you say so?" he said, keeping his tone even.

"My father and I talked with your father. We stated we might need an escort to the little hamlet just three days ride from here. A trade opportunity that would be benefited greatly with a member of House Masen by my side. And my trade is beneficial for his... or rather, King Felix's kingdom. But no matter how much sense I made, your father always had an excuse as to why you couldn't leave the city. And then there's this."

Edward looked to him and was surprised as Jasper moved his horse so they were riding directly side by side. He dropped his voice several octaves, speaking low so only Edward could hear. Even as he spoke, he kept facing forward. "When we ride up to the city gates look to the guard towers, but be stealthy about it. I'd wager you'll see one of them make a signal further off."

Perplexed, Edward did as Jasper had said when they got in view of the guard towers. He cast a glance upward in time to see one of the guards peer over the side of the tower. He, then, made some kind of subtle signal—a mere raise of his hand to adjust his helmet that lingered too long. Then, he returned to his rigid, ready stance.

"Let's take a short ride out into the valley, shall we?" Jasper said in a normal tone. He led his horse to a trot.

Edward followed suit, still perplexed. But as they approached a gate, they heard the clatter of horse's hooves approaching quickly. Edward brought his horse around to see a rider dressed in page boy garb. He was indeed no more than a boy who slid lithely from his horse and bowed. "M'lord. Lord Aro bids you come to him. He has an urgent message for you."

"Imagine that." Jasper sounded anything but surprised. He nodded at Edward. "Best you take your leave, My Lord. I'll see you at dinner as planned."

Edward had a good idea of what was going on. Jasper's topic of conversation couldn't be coincidence, so he wasn't precisely surprised that his father's urgent message amounted to nothing but a pile of shit.

"Tell me, Father, were I to venture out again after I put out this minor fire, what excuse would you have to bring me back within the city walls?"

Aro's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I'm not sure what business you think you have gallivanting around with the Grand Alchemist's son in the first place. Your king has tasked you with arranging a tournament. There's work to be done."

"So there is. Jasper Cullen has wares that would make a fine prize for one of the contests. If I could agree to get a donation from him—"

"You take dinner with the Cullens nearly every night."

Edward grimaced. He'd hoped no one had noticed that, but, of course, his father knew everything that happened in the kingdom. What he couldn't say was that he could only stand so much of the king leering at Bella. It was a wonder his murderous thoughts hadn't become a physical entity and strangled the king where he stood. He'd thought more than once to ask Carlisle for a concoction—something to put in the king's drink so he need not even touch the vile creature to kill him.

"Alice Cullen and my wife get along quite splendidly," Edward said instead.

"And I am glad for it," Aro said, sounding bored. "The point being that if you cannot accomplish your task in those hours, you should be spending the daylight hours on something more productive."

There was no real sense in demanding his father tell him what he already knew. Edward bowed his head. "As you say, Father." With that, he went to do as he was bid.

 _ **~0~**_

"How did you know?" Edward asked Jasper as they sat down to dinner that evening in Alice and Jasper's temporary cottage.

The other man smiled. "It was Alice who noticed. The guards always watch Bella from the walls."

"Bella noticed that herself," Alice corrected her husband. She reached over and patted Bella's hand. "I just noticed that there was a signal when we got too close to the gate."

Edward looked to his wife. "You didn't tell me."

She ducked her head. "They've always watched me since the day my father…" She shook her head. "I don't even think about it anymore."

"And after I talked to your father, when he took such lengths to make sure you wouldn't leave the city gates either, I figured it was the same for you," Jasper said.

Edward set his mouth in a grim line, disgruntled. He was quiet for a long while as Bella and Alice set plates of food on the table and sat beside their husbands. Edward shook his head, his throat tight. "My cage is so well gilded, it's taken me all this time to realize it was even there. I've always done as my father wished, and I suppose that never bothered me."

Jasper nodded. "It's a son's duty to honor his father, My Lord. From what I've seen and heard, your father is quite the master manipulator. His power lies not in his birthright but his ability to control the pieces on the board." He grinned in that mischievous way, his blue eyes flashing. "I find it likely you surprised him as much as you surprised me. If your allegiance shifted to your wife above your father, of course he tightened his grip."

In spite of himself, Edward smiled. "They may have been right when they called me a coward, though for the wrong reasons." His smile tightened into a thin line as he looked to the horizon. "I've never been proud of my family and what they've done to the realm. Yet, it never would have occurred to me to oppose them to this point. I'm a Masen, and my allegiance must be with the rest of my kin."

"I don't find that cowardly. You know, this war began not because we all became sick of a tyrannical rule. Not because we feared for our lives under King Felix." He looked at Bella with a sad, apologetic smile. "It all happened because Emmett Swan couldn't bring himself to follow the rule of a man who murdered his father so viciously. I've met the man. Believe me, politics and rule were never what he wanted for himself. Had his father's head remained on his shoulders, it's likely none of this would have happened."

Bella, too, smiled. "Emmett hates being serious. When we had important visitors, and Mother and Father instructed him to use proper decorum, he would whine like a small child." She laughed, a faraway look on her face. "And if the dignitary was particularly stuffy, they somehow always found a frog in their room or, once, a snake."

Jasper and Alice chuckled. Edward reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Bella's ear. He did so love her smile. Even more when, in the next second, she raised her head and smiled at him.

"All the more reason to fight like hell," Jasper said. "Now, Emmett will tell you readily that he has no wish to rule. However, that's an unlikely outcome if he wins this war. He'll then tell you that he need only rule the northern colonies, that it's high time we divide the land. But to hell with that as well, I say." He slammed a hand palm down on the table. "I say we will have a high king with a good heart, who may or may not put snakes in your bed when you visit."

Even Edward laughed at that. "And there will be much drunken revelry."

Jasper pointed at him, his eyes bright and smile wide. "Now that is a good idea if ever I heard one. Wife!"

"Why are you bellowing? I'm right here." Alice looked bemused as she put a hand to her husband's chest.

He grinned at her and raised a hand to put over hers. "I think this evening calls for our best whiskey."

"An excellent idea." Alice smirked at him cheekily. "I trust you know where it is."

Edward glanced, as he did quite frequently, at Bella and was surprised to see a shocked look on her face at Alice's words. She was, after all, a well brought up young lady. Ladies didn't question their husbands in front of guests. Alice and Jasper were so different from their usual company, but Edward found it refreshing.

Jasper gave his wife a wry look. "I'm ever so glad when you agree with my diabolical schemes, dearest." He kissed her cheek and got to his feet, going to open cabinets.

He came back with a bottle and set about pouring some for all. When he raised the bottle in question to Bella, she looked to Edward. He was surprised to see she seemed eager. She'd been dubious about his offer of wine early in their marriage.

"It's quite a bit stronger than wine, I'd wager," he warned.

"Pish. She's no babe, My Lord, and she knows her own mind," Alice said. "In fact, I'd wager Bella and I can hold our liquor better than you and my darling husband."

Edward smirked. "I highly doubt that."

Some minutes later, they were all racked with chortles, red in the face with not a care in the world. Alice was on Jasper's lap, her arm slung around his neck. Bella rested her head on Edward's shoulder. She looked lovely and relaxed. He sighed.

"It does rankle though," Edward said in response to Jasper's making light of the day's events. "I watched Father use Jane and my brother Felix to further his ambitions. He would have had Alec had he not joined up with the Guard. Still, I didn't realize I was _so_ under his thumb." He caressed Bella's cheek with the back of one knuckle. "How have you borne it all this time?"

She raised her head to look at him. "I've told you before, My Lord, a lady is brought up knowing she's to be a pawn. She is taught how to act and how to be biddable so that she may eventually be sold for money or land or prestige. No one is crass enough to say so, but that's precisely every high-born lady's lot." She tilted her head as though in thought. "I suppose little lords aren't so much different except that they may grow up to make decisions for their wives, children, and what townspeople they may be responsible for. Then, it is them in control of the chess board."

Her smile fell as she looked around, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "I-I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn."

"Don't apologize." Edward took her hand and squeezed. "You're not wrong." She had been originally promised to then-Prince Felix to secure her father's waning loyalty and that of his people. Though Edward was certain her father wouldn't have made the match had he known Felix's true nature. That may have even been why he went digging for proof of Felix's true parentage.

What Edward knew for certain was that Charles Swan would never have approved a match with him. He tilted his head down, burying his face in her hair. She was a treasure he'd never live long enough to deserve.

"Well, lowborn though he may be, my father also benefited from my marriage," Alice said, her tone light as always. "One less mouth to feed, and a smart mouth at that. Though I didn't really ask him what he thought of the matter."

"His loss," Jasper said, his smile adoring as he gazed at her. He kissed her. "My gain."

Beside him, Bella relaxed again. She played with his fingers and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. He lifted a hand and pushed her hair back.

This was nice. For the first time in maybe forever, Edward felt as though he was among friends. Ironically, on this day when he was shown just how far his chains allowed him, he felt, for the moment, truly free.

* * *

 **A/N: I know it was short. You know why?**

 **Well, I know why!**

 **Which is good. Because I'm writing it.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Tread lightly, my friends. Remember I'm here to answer questions if you need me to.**

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The day the tournament opened dawned clear and bright. The night before, Edward had brought Bella a fine dress. It was the one of the most gorgeous things she'd ever owned—silken, flowing, and elegant. It was not the dress of a child, but that of a woman. A Lord of the Masen lands and the Master of Coin's wife would wear a dress like this.

How Bella wished she didn't sometimes feel so much like a child—frightened and uncertain. It was going to be a difficult day. Since Felix had proven to be more monster than man, years ago now, Bella had been made to attend many dinners, feasts, and festivals seated at the king's table so many times even hours after he'd had her beaten or done the job himself. Now…

Well, now his leer made her skin crawl, as though she were bathing in filth and what was more, the whole court could see. Today would be worst of all because it would be the first time since he'd visited her chambers that she would have to be so near the King. He'd made it clear she was to sit in his box. It was a hellish thought to have to be so near not only her tormentor, but her maniacal sister-in-law and her cold, calculating brother-in-law.

And Edward would, by all accounts, be busy all day.

"The sleeves of your dress are loose fitting. It wouldn't be a problem to wear the sheath I gave you for your dagger, high up on your arm," Edward said that morning, pulling on his boots. He was trying to sound nonchalant, but his words only added to the stone of dread that sat heavy in her gut.

"What good would it do?" she asked as gently as she could. "If I were to drive a dagger in his gut, would I not be signing my own death warrant?" She shook her head. "I told you, husband. I will survive this and live free again." She looked down at her feet. "He is the king, and it's his divine right to take as he will. There's naught to be done if it's what he wishes. You and I both know it."

She didn't have to look at him to know his jaw would be clenched and his eyes tortured. Her own eyes stung. She heard him swallow. "I'll kill him. I swear—"

His words cut off when she raised her head and narrowed her eyes. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I swear it will kill _me_ to survive this war." He shook his head and put his arm around her. "We are, I think, over-fearful. The king too has his duties at any gathering, particularly one he himself ordered."

Pressing a palm to her cheek, he encouraged her to look up, and when she did, she could see the love and adoration her husband held for her. "I know you don't need to hear it, Bella, but I will tell you again. Assure you stay with others, always. I will be there as often as I can, of course, but as long as you're in public, you should be safe. Divine will or no, he'll not risk the disfavor of the court."

Bella's stomach roiled. That was why, they had supposed together, the bastard hadn't bragged about what he'd done to Bella. To have her beaten before a bloodthirsty court was one thing. What he had done was something else entirely, and at the very least looked on with distaste.

Edward sighed and stood again, going to a stand where he had several blades laid out. He selected a dagger and held it up, examining it. "Still, with so many people about, strangers from distant cities, some small semblance of protection would not go amiss, my love."

"The world will always be dangerous." She nodded. "I'll keep the dagger on me."

She kept her promise. When Angela helped her dress, she strapped the dagger to her upper arm. Angela clearly thought it was madness—a woman carrying a blade. "You're more like to hurt yourself, My Lady."

Bella smiled wryly. "I appreciate your concern, Angela, but rest assured I'll be fine."

Angela looked uncertain, but finished straightening Bella's sleeves over the weapon. "How would you like your hair, My Lady?"

"Leave that to me," a new voice said.

Bella turned, delighted to see Alice at the door. The other woman bustled forward. Before she could take the brush from Angela's hand, Bella's handmaid stepped back, her brow furrowed. "But, My Lady—"

"Your lady is in good hands." Alice smiled kindly at the maid, though she also looked amused. "You are good to be concerned, but I assure you I'm more than capable. Run along now, dear heart. There's much to be done today, and a pair of extra hands will be much appreciated in the hall."

Angela fussed, but Alice was firm. When Bella agreed that her friend could help her today, Angela curtsied to them both and hurried away. Bella sighed. "She's a dear girl," she said with a sigh, sitting and turning her back. "One of the very few kind people I've known all these years. Before Edward, she was all I had. Your father-in-law was kind when he could be, of course, but, like Edward, there was little reason for us to interact."

"Yes, your maid is loyal to you and protective." Alice began stroking the brush through Bella's long hair. "I know it is a point of pride for her to assure you look lovely and well groomed, but I shall have that happy privilege today. It's been some time since I've had reason to do this. Since I left my sisters at least, and I enjoy it." She leaned down to say near Bella's ear, "And I have a gift for you."

Bella turned to look over shoulder, but Alice guided her face forward. "Patience, My Lady. You'll know soon enough."

Alice's fingers were deft as she brushed Bella's hair to a fine a sheen and then began weaving it into braids, twisting some of it on top of her head while part of her hair fell down her back. As she worked, she told Bella a little of what she'd seen when she and Jasper visited Emmett.

It was wonderful to hear good things about her brother for once. In Volterra, most people spoke of Emmett as though he was a tantruming child. He was unskilled and made some of the worst decisions they'd ever seen in all their years. Such a piss poor leader. That he won most of the battles and had only gained support was something they conveniently forgot. If they talked about Emmett as anything other than inept, it was to call him out for being a savage brute.

Alice told her stories of his bravery, and how well loved he was by those who followed him. She whispered some of the bawdy jokes Emmett had told her. Bella flushed, but she grinned. She could almost hear Emmett's hearty laugh.

"I miss him," Bella whispered to her friend, her heart aching.

Alice squeezed her shoulder. "It won't be long now. I can feel it." As promised, Alice and Jasper were searching dutifully for a way to get Bella—and Edward—out of Volterra. "To that end, we come to my gift." She moved off to the side and retrieved a leather carrying case. She unrolled it, revealing the top of what looked like a hair comb. It was made of metal wound in a delicate, intricate pattern, dotted with gems,

"It's exquisite," Bella said, running the tip of her finger along the design.

"Yes." Alice bent close to talk in her ear. "There will be many people here this evening, My Lady, and therefore, there will be much chaos. It may well be that a chance to escape will present itself too suddenly for you to retrieve your things." Alice reached out to pull the comb from its place. To Bella's surprise, the end was not the typical long shaft, but a thin and deadly-looking blade. "A gift from your brother, Bella. So that you may have some semblance of protection or, if you flee without so much as a coin on you, you may sell the jewels."

Bella stared at the thing in shock. A dagger. She could see the hilt of it now, the grip set into the design. It was beautiful and deadly.

"Not to worry," Alice said. "I can teach—"

"Edward taught me how to use a dagger." She picked the thing up and thrust it forward in a stabbing motion. "And a sword. And I've fired a crossbow as well." She set the dagger down and rolled up her sleeve. "And there's this."

Alice laughed. "He's a good man." She sighed. "All things considered, if we can get you out in the next few days, it will be unlikely you'll need either of them. Stealth is the preference—to sneak you out amidst the gathering of people about. This is—"

"Just in case," Bella said. A thrill of nerves shot down her spine. She handed Alice the dagger. "I'll be ready, but remember—"

This time, it was Alice who interrupted her. "Not without your husband. Yes."

With that, she carefully tucked the dagger into Bella's hair.

 _ **~0~**_

Edward reappeared in time to escort Bella to the opening line—a parade of the houses and players being represented at the games. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, keeping her close as they climbed into the stands to the King's personal box.

Bella breathed in through her nose and out again, bobbing a slight curtsey to the Queen Mother, and murmuring a quick, "Your Grace," to Felix. She bowed her head to Aro and Alec, standing guard as ever. She smiled more genuinely for Felix's younger siblings—sweet children still, untouched by Felix's madness or Jane's coldness. She took a seat behind Felix's bride-to-be, grateful when Edward sat beside her. He gave her hand a squeeze, and she wondered if he had the same daydreams she did of how easy it would be to drive her dagger right through the back of Felix's skull.

As though he'd heard her thoughts, Felix twisted in his seat to leer at her. Bella shrank back before she could help it, and she swore she could hear her husband growl low under his breath. His hand tightened on hers.

"It's quite a grand event, is it not, My Lady?" Felix said.

Bella had to swallow around the lump in her throat. It was such an innocuous question, and there was likely no trick to it. He knew she hated looking at him, knew it made her choke with fear. As such, she lifted her head up high and forced herself to look him dead in the eyes. "Oh, yes, Your Grace. I makes me glad that the kingdom may be as proud of my husband as I am. He has accomplished much splendor."

Felix's grin fell into a slight scowl. "It was done at my request."

"As you say, Your Grace."

It wasn't long, though, before Edward was called away to attend this or that minor emergency. He clung to Bella's hand as he stood, his eyes troubled. He was searching, he knew, for some excuse to take her away with him. Felix, however, was watching, and Bella knew it would call more attention to them if she did leave. She swept her eyes around the booth, reminding him and herself that they were surrounded by people in the daylight. She would be tormented only to the extent Felix's very presence unnerved her.

"I'll be back," Edward vowed.

The day stretched on too long, and Bella was too on edge to ever relax. Edward didn't come back, and Felix engaged her in conversation as often as he could. Thankfully, with his fiancée right beside him, decorum prevented him from lingering too long.

Edward reappeared just as the festivities moved to the hall for the feast. He spoke over-loud to her, saying he needed her by his side to greet some foreign dignitaries. Bella curtsied again at the royal family, taking her leave.

At the feast, the King had his hands full. Too many people stopping by his table to make conversation. Bella relaxed a little. She kept to Edward's side, doing her best to fill her role as a proper wife.

Inevitably, Edward was called away time and again. When he was, the king was the least of Bella's worries. There were those who sought her out when her husband wasn't there to act as buffer. Many would never let her forget she was the daughter of the traitor. Through a veneer of civility, they gave her the clear idea that they thought her unworthy of what she'd been given—the mercy of the king, and the benefit of a noble name. She was, they implied with smiles on their faces, lower than the dirt on their shoes, and they, like the members of the court, would like nothing more than to see her beaten and groveling at their feet.

These would never be her people.

"My Lady."

Bella was flooded with relief at the sound of the soft, familiar voice. She turned with a smile. "Hello, Carlisle." She took his hand, giving it a brief squeeze in greeting, and he kissed her cheek in a fatherly way.

"You'll forgive me, My Lords." Carlisle bowed to the men who had been speaking with Bella just as he walked up. "My Lady looks a little piqued. I think a breath of fresh air would do her well."

They murmured their good-byes, and Bella let Carlisle lead her toward the doors. They strolled through several hallways, chatting about where Esme was, and what Jasper and Alice were up to tonight. Finally, they were out on a small, quiet balcony, away from the main crowd and facing the ocean. Bella tilted her head up, enjoying the bite of the cool breeze. It was calm and beautiful out here, where she could watch the moon rise over the water. "Thank you," she said. "Today has been exhausting."

"I can only imagine what it's been like for you, and I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner." Carlisle ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Tournaments are my least favorite gathering as far as my position is concerned. Today, many contestants come to me looking for some small advantage. Tomorrow, the long line of wounded will need tending, and I'll be expected to oversee that mess." He chuckled.

They chatted for a while longer before Bella gasped. "Look." She pointed down to the street far below and a small ways away. "Is that Edward?"

Carlisle peered where she was pointed and chuckled. "Nothing wrong with your eyesight." He paused a moment, drumming his fingertips on the rail. "If you wait here, I can go get your husband. We can use it as an excuse. He can cut through the crowds if we say his wife is feeling ill and needs to be escorted back to your chambers."

Bella brightened at this idea. Much better than going down to meet him as though she weren't ill. "I would appreciate that."

"It's quiet up here, after all. And it will only take a few minutes." Carlisle nodded. "All right." He gestured to a bench set in the growing shadows. "Stay hidden, and I'll be back shortly."

Bella sat as instructed, feet bouncing with anticipation. She hated being away from Edward, but with the myriad of people about, today had been worse than ever. She wanted to be in his arms, to see for herself that he, too, was safe and whole. She had no reason to believe he wouldn't be, but worried for him anyway.

Minutes passed, and Bella became more anxious. Had something happened? The din far below her still sounded cheery. She stood and began to pace.

More minutes passed. Then, as she paced by the curtain that stood between the doorway and the hallway, something gripped her hard around the arm. She gasped, but any cry was cut off as she was brought back against a hard chest, a hand clapped over her mouth in a painful grip. She was dragged backward, into the darkness of a corridor even as she struggled, screaming and cursing against the hand that held her.

It took moments, and then she was thrust forward. She twisted, and but she was already being pushed, pinned with her back against a hard wall and a huge body in front of her. Again, the rough hand came over her mouth, stifling her scream.

She knew it was Felix—had known it the moment she felt fingers on her arm. Even in the dim light, she could see the glinting eyes of the maniac king. Her heart hammered, and she whimpered in dread.

"You're a difficult woman to get alone these days," he said, his voice melodic and taunting. He gave her cheeks a squeeze. "You make a sound, and I'll cut your fingers off before anyone can get here. I'll tell them all you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, and so I solved your problem for you. Do you understand?"

Struggling to keep a clear head around the terror that threatened to overtake her, Bella nodded. She gasped in a huge breath the moment the king's hand came away from her mouth.

"Hmm." His hands moved over her, caressing her hair even as she shuddered. Then, she froze as his hands brushed over her shoulders. "Now, what's this?"

He yanked up the sleeve of her dress. Bella couldn't help but raise her hands, as though to ward him off, when he reached for the dagger. He took a moment to push her arms above her head and held her pinned at the wrists with one of his large, strong hands. "No," she couldn't help but whisper on a breath as he took the dagger from its sheath with his free hand. "Your Grace… That...It's a gift. From my husband. Please."

"A gift?" He laughed. "And what, pray tell, did my uncle think you needed something like this for, hmm?"

Bella gave a small cry, turning her head to the side as he stepped forward, pressing against her. He put the dagger against her cheek so she could feel the sharp, cold edge against her skin. "Did he think you could kill me with this, little girl? Is that what this blade was for?" he asked against her ear.

Anger sparked in her, mingling with the fear. He was disgusting and vile and oh, Gods, yes. She wanted to kill him. She clenched her hands in fists. "No, Your Grace. Of course not," she said instead.

He drew the blade down, pointing it at her neck without putting pressure. "Of course not," he murmured in a purr. "It is such a pretty thing." He let the blade play at the corner of her dress, edging the tip under the fabric. "Maybe we could find other uses for it then." His body pressed ever closer. "Oh, what a story they'll tell tomorrow. Such a shame." The fabric of her dress began to rip as he pushed the blade along her shoulder. Bella drew in a sharp breath through lungs being squeezed too tightly to breathe. "You'll be such a pretty sight."

Bella could see the picture clearly. He would use her and leave her to be found, ravaged and weeping, her clothes cut to ribbons by the dagger. No one would suspect the king. After all, he need not use a weapon if he really wanted her in his bed. He would be free to enjoy her public shame without recrimination.

 _No._ The word screamed in her mind. She couldn't let this happen to her. Not again. Never again. No. She would kill him. But how…

Just as Felix dipped his head to bite at her exposed neck, Bella remembered that the dagger he drew along the seams of her dress was not her only weapon. That, and Felix's grip on her wrist had loosened as his attention was drawn to other things.

Bella pushed through the haze of fear and panic, drawing a deep breath just before she ripped her arms from his grip. Quick as a flash, she grabbed the handle of the dagger hidden in her hair and drew it out.

Felix had begun to move, taking a step away from her. As such, Bella had clear access to his throat as she drove the dagger downward. She buried it in the side of his neck, and he roared. His hands came up, and somehow, she managed to grab the dagger that had been her husband's gift as it fell from his hand. Felix stumbled backward, and Bella—acting purely on instinct with very little thought—brought the second blade to bear. She stalked forward, driving it hard between his legs, pushing past any resistance with a strength she didn't realize she'd had. He let out a strangled cry as he stumbled further backward into the shadows. He fell to the stone floor.

He couldn't scream. There was blood in his mouth, making him sputter and gag. With an unworldly calmness, Bella stood over him, staring down, feeling nothing. She stooped, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of her haircomb-dagger. She bent low enough so she could say near his ear. "You die by Emmett Swan's blade."

Then, she pulled it out in jerk. Blood poured from the wound. Felix writhed and gagged, the sound wretched and filled with pain. Only as she watched the blood spread, turning his dress tunic bright red, and begin to puddle onto the floor did emotion begin to fill the places inside her that had gone cold.

Oh, Gods. Gods, what had she done?

She had stabbed the King in a high tower. She brought her hands up. Even in the semi-darkness, she could see they were stained with blood. Her torn dress was hanging off her shoulder. There was blood on her clothes. In her hair.

The king's blood.

Bella nearly yelped when she heard steps in the corridor. Her heart began to pound as she looked to the gagging, dying man and to the hallway. His guards? Would they kill her where she stood or drag her to the dungeons? Oh, Gods.

But it wasn't the guards who came hurrying around the bend. It was Edward and Carlisle behind him. "Edward," Bella said, her voice hoarse. She was trembling, she realized. Gripping a dagger in either hand.

"Bella." He grabbed her by the arms, looking her over. The daggers dropped to the ground in a clatter.

Carlisle stepped past them to the king. He dropped to his knees by his side. Felix clutched at him, sputtering, spraying blood around wet, horrible coughs. His body seized and then slackened, his hand dropping.

"Bella," Edward gave her a small shake, trying to get her to look at him as his hands searched for wounds. "Where are you hurt? Are you—"

"It's not my blood," she whispered, her eyes frozen on the still body of the king. "What have I done? Oh, what have I done?"

Carlisle stood, unfastening the cloak he wore. He darted back to them, throwing the cloak over Bella's shoulders. "Go," he said, looking at Edward. "You have minutes, if that. Go now."

Edward gave Bella one more shake. "We need to leave. We need to run, _now_."

That snapped Bella out of her stupor. She nodded, stooping only long enough to grab up Edward's dagger. Then, she followed him as they fled down the corridor.

* * *

 **A/N: SO…**

 **How ya doin'?**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Agh. Who told me I could write action?**

* * *

Edward's heart pounded against his chest, a roar in his ears as he pulled Bella with him down the castle steps. What he wanted more than anything was to run. He needed to be far away from here. It would be minutes before they found Carlisle with the king's body. Gods, he hoped his friend would be okay, but right then, his priority was the woman by his side.

He let go of her only long enough to bring the hood of his cloak up and over his head. Wrapping his arm around Bella's waist, he pulled her tightly against him. "Listen to me, lovely. Listen. Hold on to me. If someone stops us, we're going to stick to the story you've fallen ill. Just don't look up."

Bella stared up at him with wide eyes. Her face was streaked with blood. Actually, she was a mess of blood. "You have to turn me in," she whispered.

His blood ran cold. "What?"

"You have to. It's the only way they won't believe you had nothing to do with this." She grabbed his arms, her voice spiky and frantic as she spoke. "I won't be the excuse your sister uses to cleave your head from your shoulders. Even if we could get out of here, I left my hairpin. It was a dagger. The dagger I used to—"

Steps in the passageway sent them both into action. Edward pulled Bella down a different passage, his steps hurried. "Have I ever given you cause to doubt my feelings for you?" he asked low under his breath.

They turned their faces away, brushing past an amorous couple. "No," she said, her voice breathless. "But—"

"But nothing." He squeezed her side even as they ran along. "I have no use for my life without you, beloved. All things considered, it would be a privilege to die at your side." He peered around a corner, checking that it was clear before he ushered her through and out into the open air. "That being said, I recall making a vow to protect you. It's high time I kept that vow."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than they reached the bottom of the stairs just as someone else was coming up them. Someone familiar.

"Edward," Aro greeted his son.

"Father." Edward's heart skipped a beat, and so the word came out strangled. Bella did as she'd been instructed and hid her face at his neck. He made an effort to stand up straighter. "Isabella was feeling a touch ill."

Aro's eyes, ever perceptive, narrowed. "And so you're taking her away from your chambers, into the night?"

"I—"

There was a clamor, and all three of them turned to look up at the castle. Indecipherable shouts rang out. The guards at the top of the stairs raced inside.

"Edward, what have you done?" Aro asked, his voice harsh.

Edward turned back to his father, his mind racing. But Aro was already reaching for the sword at his side. Edward had decided what to do before he put words to the thought. It was life or death, and when it was his and Bella's lives on the line, he knew exactly what his father would choose. His heart in his throat, he drew his own dagger—a long, thin blade—and drove it straight for his father's cold heart.

He would remember the look of pain and incredulity on his face for as long as he lived.

Before he could stoop close to the body, the sound of the guards running nearby, their armor clattering, focused Edward's attention. Knowing they had no time to spare, Edward grabbed Bella's hand and, again, they ran.

The marketplace was still teeming with people though evening had fallen in full force. Edward flipped a coin to a vendor at a stall and pulled two blankets from her wares. He passed one to Bella who didn't need to be told to put it about herself to hide her fine clothes. He did the same, and they continued on.

"Where are we going?" Bella asked in a low aside.

Edward let out a breath. "I'm not sure." The city would be locked down before they could think of getting through the gate; that was a certainty. Edward knew of some abandoned lots, but it was likely the guards would search such places.

The sound of shouts had them turning down an alleyway. They ran through to the other side, and Edward pulled Bella to him. He wrapped his arms around her and bent his face toward hers in an approximation of a kiss. Really, he was hiding their faces as guards past them by. He could feel Bella trembling against him, and she clung to his shirt.

"There's only one place we can go," she said near his ear. "But it's not right. It can't be right."

Edward peeked over her shoulder to see if the guards had gone. Seeing they had, he wrapped an arm again around her waist, and they got moving again. "You're right. There's no other choice. We must get off the streets now."

It took perhaps fifteen minutes for them to get within sight of Jasper and Alice Cullen's home. Before Edward could figure how best to approach the door—he couldn't let anyone see them enter—a figure came out of the darkness. Edward and Bella both started, but Jasper pulled his hood back to reveal his face before they could turn tail and run.

Looking at them, Jasper nodded. "I figured, when I heard the bells, it had to be you."

"Jasper—" Edward began, but the other man shook his head.

"There's no time for explanations. Follow me."

They stole together to the shadows, where it was easier to enter their little cottage without being seen. Once inside, Edward felt no safer. If anything, he felt only more vulnerable. Surely this would be the first place they searched. "We shouldn't have brought this on you," he said to Jasper.

The other man shook his head. "No time," he said again. "And yes, you should have. We prepared for as many eventualities as we could." He grabbed the kitchen table and pulled it off to one side.

"What's this?" Edward said in amazement as Jasper felt for and found a hidden handle in the floor. He opened it, revealing an opening just large enough for a man to fit through.

Jasper flashed him a grin. "A priest's hole." His smile fell as they heard the clamor of horse's hooves. Jasper gestured at them. "Hurry."

Edward pulled Bella forward. "Go on, love," he murmured.

Bella took a deep breath but descended quickly down the hole. Edward saw Jasper's eyes bulge as he caught sight of what a macabre mess she was. He said nothing, though. "Thank you," Edward said as he, too, descended.

Jasper nodded.

The priest's hole was, as all priest's holes, very small, cramped, and dark. It was meant for one purpose and one purpose only—to hide one or two people briefly. This one was well-built, given that it couldn't have been too old. It most certainly hadn't been here when Bella was readying the cottage for Jasper and Alice's arrival.

Edward clung to the top rung, listening as Jasper dragged the table back into place. Just in time, too, because it was only two minutes later that Edward heard the stomp of footsteps and muffled voices. He heard Bella whimper below him and cursed his own stupidity.

Letting go of the ladder, he jumped to the ground. Since he couldn't make noise, he got to his knees, his hands in front of him until he encountered the silk of her skirts. Following them up, he found her tucked into the very corner of the hold. One hand held her dagger in a rigid grip—ready to fight despite her terror. The other hand was clamped tightly over her mouth.

It smelled like blood in the small space, he realized. And he had no idea what Bella had been through with the king before he and Carlisle had arrived. He was running high on what soldiers called battle fury, but she had to be near to breaking with all that had happened.

He put his hand over hers that gripped her dagger tightly. He hummed as softly as he dared, urging her to calm. Once he'd coaxed the dagger from her hand, he set it to the side and sat beside her, his back against the wall. "Come to me," he whispered, working to pull her onto his lap.

She was shattering to pieces in his arms, quaking so hard it frightened him. He rocked her as well as he could, his lips near her ear as he hummed. He wished he could tell her it would all be all right, that no one would ever hurt her as long as he was there. They were infuriatingly empty words. He was being protected, as she was, by Jasper at present.

All he could do was hold her, rock her. She'd buried her face against his neck and wept hot tears onto his skin. She had pressed her open mouth to his neck, and he could feel the vibration there of either screams or hysterics. Her teeth stung as they dug into him, but it was the least of what he could give her.

The stomping footsteps moved directly overhead. Edward jumped when he realized he recognized the voice shouting, though he couldn't make out what was being said. It was the voice of his brother Alec—furious and deadly.

Then, it was Edward who shook. He had killed their father. When this was over, he would have to square with that fact. All things considered, Edward didn't think his brother was so upset about his father's death. While Aro had been prouder of Alec than he ever was of Edward, he'd still had no warmth for him. No, Edward was certain Alec's fury had everything to do with the death of the king—his son.

The secret that Bella's father had died for. The secret that had started this war. A secret Edward hadn't known for certain himself until he heard the roar of Alec's voice. His brother was as calm and cold as their father. Only the death of a child, or perhaps Jane, could bring this out of him.

Eventually, though, the heavy footfalls marched away, leaving the priest's hole in silence. Bella was calmer then, merely sniffling and trembling. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice raw. "I'm sorry for what I've brought down on us."

"He brought it on himself."

"He didn't." Her voice, while still quiet, was stronger now. "How many times did I tell you not to rise against him? I knew he would come for me again. I've always known. I should have—"

Her words cut off with a whimper, and her breath stuttered. Edward ran a hand through her hair, further loosening it from the ornate style she'd had it in. He could guess what she'd been about to say. She should have let the king do as he would, as she'd said she was going to.

"There's only so much pain a person can take. You've had more than your share for a lifetime."

"I've put us all in danger."

"We've been in danger." He shook his head. "I've never doubted you'd survive us, Bella. What I've never known is how many pieces you'd be reduced to by the time you were free. No. You've saved more than yourself today. You've killed a king no one will weep for. The bards will sing of your greatness."

She chuffed, but she seemed steadier in his arms. "But if the rest of you die for it?"

"It's war, my love. Your being held captive was an act of war. Your being married off to me was an act of war." He tightened his hold on her, and kissed her brow. "A prisoner killing her captor is part of a war you didn't start. He did, and he died for it. Perhaps we'll die for it too, though I'd much prefer we don't take ourselves out of the equation yet."

"No. Not yet."

 _ **~0~**_

It was hours before the wood above them shifted and light came in. Edward stood with Bella, keeping her in the circle of his arms, and peered up. The light hurt his eyes, but eventually he saw three faces staring down at him—Jasper, Alice, and Esme. His stomach churned. Where was Carlisle?

"He's fine," Esme said, her tone clipped. "As I understand, they're questioning him quite relentlessly. He was the last one to see Isabella before… Well. No matter. The court knows he was found trying to save the king. The murmurings are rapidly turning against the Guard for holding him so long when it's clear he had nothing to do with your crimes." Though it obviously took her some effort, worried as she was for her husband, she smiled at Bella. "Don't worry, lovely. They won't hurt him."

Edward could hear the words she didn't say. _Because if they do, they'll answer to me_.

"I'd wager they won't open the castle gates until mid-morning so they have time to search in the light," Jasper said. "It's best if you stay in the hole until the coast is clear." He grimaced. "We'll have to think of something by then. You won't be able to stay in the city for long."

"But after we clean you up a bit." Alice went to Bella, taking her hands. "Goodness, but you're a mess."

Bella pulled back. "I…" She swallowed hard and lifted her head up. "I would appreciate if you brought me a basin, however I have something to discuss with you all. I have a plan."

Edward's eyes went wide, and everyone turned to stare at her. She'd been quiet down in the hole. He'd thought she was just sorting out what she felt about all that had happened. He should have known better.

 _ **~0~**_

It was afternoon the next day before everything was ready, and the coast was as clear as it was likely to get.

Carlisle had been released around dawn. It was well known that his wife had gone to stay with their son, and so it was natural for him to go to Jasper's house straight away.

While Edward and Bella—dressed now in the simple peddlers' clothes that Jasper and Alice had procured for them—were forced to stay in the priest's hole, the others assembled what they needed. There was a cart laden in simple wares—boxes with false bottoms where there was a small store of food, weapons, and a small cache of money.

"Though, it's wiser if you keep to the forest at least until you get to the Midlands," Jasper advised. "Inns are nice, of course, but so close to Volterra, someone will recognize you."

As to how they would get outside the walls. Well, that was all Bella. She and Alice had talked at length after Alice had begun taking lessons from Carlisle about his work. At some point during their conversations, Alice had told her of a brew she could make that, when applied to the skin, would produce a rash, swelling, and blistering sores. The effects weren't pleasant, but they also weren't permanent.

"Don't scratch," Alice reminded them both, wagging a finger, before she helped them apply the cream. "Broken blisters will scar, and that would be terrible for everyone."

She applied the cream with excruciating care, getting near enough to their eyes so the swelling would deform their features but not cut off their vision. She dabbed at the skin of their arms—anywhere there was a patch of visible skin. Edward sucked in a breath at the burn on his skin. The pain was acute for a full twenty minutes or so before it faded, leaving behind an incredible itch. Uncomfortable was putting it mildly.

But worth it, he reminded himself, looking at Bella who was staring at her ruined hand with horror. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it, swelling and all. "You're still beautiful to me."

Then, they said their goodbyes.

"We'll meet again on the right side of this mess," Carlisle said, squeezing Edward's shoulder.

"As the Gods will it," Edward said, hoping the man knew without his having to say in this mixed company that he was the father Edward wished he'd had.

Jasper gave his back a healthy thunk. "As _we_ will it," he said with a grin.

"You're both a part of this now," Alice said, giving them both hugs. "I think you're going to be more important than any of us realizes."

Esme, not caring about the current state of their faces, kissed them both gently. "Everything will work out," she said.

They made their way slowly across the city, careful not to draw attention to themselves. Everywhere, people were talking about the king's death, and the new king, Felix's little brother Demetri. Demetri was a sweet child, but he was just that—a child. With Aro gone, no one knew who was going to actually rule.

Edward's theory proved, thus far, correct. No one seemed particularly upset about Felix. Many celebrated or called out cheers. "What'd I tells ya, aye? Swans er vicious creatures," someone nearby guffawed. "Well, good on 'er, and the lordling besides."

Finally, in the early afternoon, they made it to the gate. There was a line. Guards inspected wagons, as they'd known would be the case. Now, Edward _did_ call attention to them.

"Here goes nothing," he heard Bella murmur from her place in the cart.

"Agh!" the guard who looked their way saw his face and started. "What in all hell's happened to you."

"Thas the thing, Sir." Edward made his voice raspy—not too hard given that his heart was in his throat—and his posture hunched. "I'm thinkin' me and the wife's displeased the gods, we has. Cursed we are, with this plague." He made a show of coughing, and Bella echoed it. "Best we get out of the city, aye? Las' thing I wan' is to spread this misery."

The guard looked uncertain. He unsheathed his sword, and Edward held his breath, but he only used it to prod at some of the blankets covering their wares. Bella lifted her head, and the man balked. He nodded. "Aye, get your diseased asses away from me."

He called an order up the line, and people moved to the side to let them through, giving the cart a wide berth. Though he gripped the horse's reins tightly, Edward's heart was pounding out of control. He struggled to keep his breath even, struggled to keep himself from urging the horse into a bolt.

When they went under the city gate, Edward looked up, watching as they crossed. They started down the road, rumbling away from the city.

Only when they were under the cover of the forest did Edward begin to breathe again. Then, from the wagon, he heard the unmistakable sound of giddy laughter. To his surprise, Bella hopped off the wagon. He pulled the horse to a stop, but she was already at his side, offering her gloved right hand to him. Smiling, he took her hand and pulled her onto the horse behind him.

Bella wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his back. "I thought I'd never see the outside of that city again," she said softly.

He grinned and urged the horse on.

They were free.

* * *

 **A/N: Weeeeeeee.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Buckle up, kiddos! Let's do this thing.**

* * *

Captive or no, Bella had always been a lady. As such, she'd never had occasion to live rough, as her brother had put it, when their father had sent him to follow their soldiers for a month. Edward had, in his lifetime, lived rough, but he'd much preferred not to.

"My family's money ensured I've never been without luxury," he mused to her one day. "I suppose I must admit it's one of the things that kept me complacent all these years."

Save for that observation, neither of them complained. The ground was cold and hard. The first few days they didn't dare start a fire. They crossed streams where they could—to throw off the scent of the hunting dogs—and that was as close to a bath as they could manage.

When it was safer, Edward risked going into town long enough to sell their little wagon and buy a horse for Bella. They covered as much distance as possible. Bella wasn't a stranger to horses, but she'd never been so long in the saddle. She was sore when they rested, so sore she could barely hobble, but she didn't complain.

Edward continued to teach her about bow hunting and other survival skills. Soon, she knew how to snare and skin a rabbit, and once she brought down a doe by herself. She was also good at knowing which mushrooms would kill them and which were edible, and knew how to make a good, minty tea. She'd recognized the leaves from Carlisle's stores.

How strange it was to be traveling the countryside like this. She'd made a similar journey once before, coming to the capital city from her homeland. It had been a much different journey then, and she a much different person—an innocent child with her father where she was now a woman on the run with her husband. Then, she'd travelled in a litter, watching the countryside roll by as she wondered what adventures awaited in her fairy tale life. Now, the further they got from Volterra, the more a cautious hope began to blossom in her, frightening though that was.

Days turned into weeks. While freedom was far preferable, no one could say it was comfortable.

One morning, Bella was only minimally conscious when a shiver racked her. It took her muddy mind minutes more to realize she was shivering. It was just one arm that was chilled. Experience had taught her if she stayed under the blankets, with Edward wrapped around her, she was far from freezing. She just needed to wake up enough to pull her arm back to warmth.

Behind her, Edward made a noise at the back of his throat. He shifted against her, and then his hand wrapped around hers. He brought it back under the blankets, and she felt his hot breath on her fingertips, chasing away the cold from her flesh. She smiled, nuzzling back against him.

Uncomfortable though the cold ground might have been, waking in her husband's arms made her lazy and loathe to start another long day's travel. Surely she could stay here with him, safe and treasured, forever.

They lay like that for a time, content in the quiet morning. All too soon, though, Edward sighed and got down to the business of the day. "We're near enough to the Midlands," he said, his voice a raspy rumble in her ear. "And we've done well with our money. We can afford a room at an Inn tonight, perhaps."

Bella brightened at the thought, already thinking about what an upgrade it would be—a lumpy mattress of straw rather than dirt.

Still, she felt a pang in her heart. She breathed in deep, inhaling the crisp air and the earthy scent of Edward's skin. She rolled to face him and then, on a whim, rolled on top of him. She sat up, grinning at his shocked face as she straddled him.

"Are you sure that's what you want, love? A return to civilized living?" She took his hands, using them to balance herself. "We're free as jays out here. We could walk away from it all. Live off the land. I can learn to sew deer hides instead of satin and lace."

He laughed, smiling up at her. He raised a hand to run his fingers along the line of her jaw, and when he ran a thumb over her lips, she kissed it. His smile gentled. "You're in rare form today, Bella."

She understood what he meant. It had been a difficult journey at the end of a dark time with no guarantee there would be light where they were going. These last weeks, they'd both had their battles to fight, coming to terms with the repercussions of what they'd done. Bella had killed a king. A king with a vengeful, powerful family.

As for Edward, he'd been so quiet at times. She could see in his eyes when he replayed the events of that night. Or rather, when he replayed the events of his life. He hadn't said so directly, but she was certain there was something in him—perhaps the specter of the little boy he'd been once—who wondered if there was something he could have done to make his family love him. Instead, he'd grown up to murder his father to protect his wife.

But this morning, all of that felt far away. Bella drew her fingertips over her chest. "It occurs to me that we're safe." She laughed. The word sounded odd in her mouth. Safe. Gods, it had been so long since she'd felt safe. "Oh, it's true we may be set upon by thieves, but not because of who we are. It would be because they wish to take our things, not because I'm a Swan, and you're Edward Masen."

He looked cautiously bemused. "So potential death and dismemberment at the hands of highwaymen doesn't bother you."

She tickled his sides lightly. "No. I have a handsome husband who is more than capable of protecting me from roaming thieves."

He wiggled beneath her, his laugh low in his chest. At this, he caught her hands by the wrist, stilling them. There was a dark note in the green of his eyes. Not sinister—of course not. Something that made Bella's breath catch in her throat. His voice was low and deep when he spoke again. "You're right, my love. Though, if I were a thief, I'd be more afraid of you."

Bella considered this. It was true that her skills and proficiency with weapons improved nearly every day. She even practiced in the saddle. She could hold her own if it came down to it. After all, she'd killed a king. How could she fear anyone after that?

Edward released her wrists and moved his hands to rub her back. She slid forward a bit, readjusting herself atop him, and saw him catch his breath. "Bella." The word was a warning. It took her a few moments to realize he was aroused.

"Oh," she said on a breath. Her face flushed hot despite the cold air. Surprisingly, though, she found the feel of him didn't bring on horrid memories. She wasn't afraid, not here in this field with her husband.

Her love.

She felt a strange thrill of excitement run through her as she pressed her backside down, rubbing against him.

"Bella," he said again around a hiss. His hands were tight on her waist.

"Shhh." She rested her hands on his chest. Her mouth had gone dry. "Let me…" Her blush deepened. She couldn't say the words out loud for what she wanted to do.

Instead, she let her hands talk for her, caressing him as he'd done so often for her. There was a thrill in the way he responded to her touch, his breath shuddering and his skin flushing. There was a thrill in what simply watching him, feeling him, did things that her body had only hinted at before.

It should have felt debauched. She was out in the open, rutting in a field like a peasant. She should have felt shame as she tugged at the ties of Edward's pants and hiked up her skirts.

She wasn't ashamed and felt anything but filthy. She felt fevered, as though she would burst into flames when Edward ran his hands up her body. There was a strange, sweet ache at her core that was only soothed when she sunk down, taking him deep inside her.

He whispered her name like a prayer, and she felt powerful. She saw the look in his eyes, all reverence and passion, and felt beautiful.

She was free.

It was such a powerful, overwhelming feeling that Bella gasped. Fear began to prickle, crawling over her skin.

"Shhh. I have you." Edward took her hands. "Let it happen, beautiful girl. You're glorious, Bella."

And because he was there with her, because she could feel him around her and inside her, Bella let go. She let the power wash over her, let it seize her body and take her, helpless over an edge she didn't know existed. Her body arched, and she cried out with it as she felt him pulse inside her.

Minutes later, she clung to him, still trembling. "I...What was that?" she whispered, stunned and flushed. Her body felt strangely limp, spent but satisfied.

Edward sighed, running a tender knuckle along her cheek. "That, my darling, is what lovemaking is meant to be."

 _ **~Edward~**_

Another week or so later, the sun was high in the sky, and Edward's stomach had been gnawing at him for a solid hour. Though they'd packed away bread and hard cheese before they'd left the inn that morning, there had been an unfortunate incident involving their bag of foodstuff and a river that had been deeper than it looked.

Edward considered the problem. There were no towns in sight, though, and he really didn't want to stop to hunt. He'd been hoping to find a berry bush or something of that nature, but so far, no luck.

"Let's stop to water the horses," Bella said, riding up beside him.

They did so, and Edward watched the stream a moment. He thought of a man he knew who had been able to catch a fish with his bare hands. How hard could it be, he wondered, scratching idly at his chest.

A lump he felt beneath his vest gave him pause. Then, he brightened, remembering that he'd bought a honey cake with the intention of surprising Bella at some point. She did so love the sticky treat.

"Hey!" he shouted in surprise, finding the case snatched out of his hands.

Bella grinned at him. "I see how you are, beloved husband. Hiding food while I wither away to skin and bones in front of you."

"I was going to share, but now I think I shall not." Edward made a grab for her, but Bella flitted away, her eyes dancing. "Come back here, you sneaky whelp," he said in a faux-menacing growl.

Instead, she darted, and he was off like a shot after her. She had a head start, but his legs were much longer. As they reached the treeline, he was almost upon her. He readied himself to pounce, but found himself flying backward, all the air pushed out of him by a blow to the belly. He was well trained enough that he rolled to his knees as soon as he hit the ground, but it didn't do him much good. He was far too winded to get to his feet before a second blow came, sending him sprawling to the side.

The third blow sent him onto his back, and Edward gasped for air. His vision was unfocused, darkness tugging momentarily at the edges, but the feel of cold steel at his neck sharpened his concentration. He could hear Bella yelling, and it sounded as though she was struggling.

"You filthy son of a whore," the man above him spat, his brown eyes blazing with fury and hate. "I've dreamed of your death a long while now, Edward Masen. It will not be quick."

"Emmett, no!" Bella screamed and wrested herself out of another man's hold. She stumbled forward and threw herself down over Edward's prone form. A surge of panic went through him, and Edward found enough of his wits to put his arm around Bella as though to yank her out from under her brother's blade.

There was no need. Emmett took a step back, holding his sword to the side, away from Bella. He narrowed his eyes. "Come away from him, Bella. Let me take care of this swine."

"Do as he says, Bella," Edward said, his voice a rasp as he tried to get his breath back. He needed her away from the sword altogether.

Emmett's features twisted again, and he kicked Edward sharply in the side. It was all Edward could do not to curl in on himself. He kept one hand at Bella's back, the other held up. "You don't speak to her, swine," Emmett hissed. "Never again. And get your hands off her."

Bella, of course, wouldn't let him go. She shook off the grip of the other man who attempted to pull her to her feet. "He's my husband, Emmett."

His voice gentled. "That's not your fault, little one. It's all right now. You owe him nothing. I swear, he will never hurt you again."

"Edward would never hurt me," Bella said, furious now. "Don't placate me, Emmett. I'm not a child any longer. I'm a wife, and this is my husband, and you will hurt him only over my dead body."

Silence fell over them. Edward would have laughed if he could breathe. The young, would-be king looked flummoxed. He grunted, his expression turning dubious. "You trust him?"

"I love him," Bella said fervently.

The corner of Emmett's lips twitched. He stepped back, out of his ready posture, and sheathed his sword.

"Emmy?" Bella asked, her voice trembling and childlike.

"Bellalula," Emmett whispered, his intimidating countenance gone soft.

Bella launched herself at her brother then. He caught her in his arms, lifting her off the ground as she chanted his name in a warble that told Edward she was crying. Truth be told, Emmett looked like he might be crying too. He had Bella's head in one large hand, the other wrapped securely around her waist. His eyes were screwed up tightly.

Secure in the knowledge that Bella was safe for the moment, Edward let himself groan, and he leaned his head back on the cold ground. So Emmett Swan was a vicious fighter at least when his sister was involved. Edward was going to be terribly bruised, but that was better than missing a head, at least.

Taking a deep breath, Edward sat up. He winced, but managed to stay upright. Anyway, the pain he felt was mitigated by the lightness in his heart at the scene before him. Emmett and Bella were still locked in a tight embrace.

Emmett was taller and much broader than Edward had remembered. Bella looked like a little girl when he held her like that, with her legs dangling. When he finally set her down, he ruffled her hair, his grin gone wide and boyish. "I'm not sure what you were talking about earlier. You still look like a child. Short as ever."

Bella sniffled, smiling though she smacked his chest. "You're terrible."

He chuckled and pulled her to him, tucking her under his arm. "It seems you have a story to tell about how you ended up in these woods so far away from Volterra." He gaze sharpened as he looked again at Edward. "And in questionable company, no less. So I'm to understand that I finally have a Masen in my clutches again, and I'm not allowed to hurt him?"

Bella wagged a finger in her brother's face. "Try to hurt him, and I'll make sure you regret it."

Edward's lips twitched. Emmett threw his head back and laughed. "I believe you, little sister."

Without letting her go, Emmett stepped forward and offered his free hand to Edward. Edward held his gaze steady as he let the other man help him to his feet. "In that case, it's good to see you again, Lord Edward. Apparently."

Amused but wary—he hadn't missed how Emmett's comrade had come to stand behind him—Edward nodded in respectful greeting. "I regret the circumstances of our meeting again, My Lord." He cocked his head. "Or is it Your Grace now?"

Emmett huffed and rolled his eyes, but he smiled. "Well, that's a question without an easy answer, but perhaps we can talk about it over lunch. Follow me back to camp."

It was, Edward noted, an order.

 _ **~Bella~**_

It was disconcerting to be with Emmett again. It was as though her world had, yet again, changed, and nothing was as she'd known it to be. Changed for the better this time, though there was something bittersweet about watching her carefree brother be so responsible. Their father had warned him it would happen sooner than later. He was heir to the lands of Rainfall, after all. He'd been born to lead.

This, though, was something altogether different. Almost as soon as they rode into camp—and Emmett's army stretched out on the hillsides for as far as the eye could see—people clamored around him, all looking for guidance. Rather than be flustered, Emmett held his head high and answered them all in turn, giving orders and placating those he didn't have the time to pay attention to just yet.

They got to the largest tent, and Bella watched, incredulous, as Emmett delegated tasks to men older than he was. They obeyed, bowing with respect and calling him, as Edward had suggested, Your Grace.

As though he knew what she was thinking, Emmett grinned. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I've been waiting for someone to come along and tell them they've made a mistake following me. Maybe I should be nervous to have you back, little sister."

"Your secret is safe with me. I promise to laugh at you only in private."

He laughed and took her face between his hands. He planted a large, wet kiss on her forehead before gesturing to her and Edward to sit down. His right hand man, Peter—the one who had been with him in the forest—was sent to take care of Emmett's more official duties. Bella was further shocked when several younger boys hurried forward almost as soon as they'd sat down. They dutifully filled everyone's goblets, brought wine and then food to them.

Emmett really was a king here.

They talked then. Emmett knew the king was dead. That much had reached them there at the camp. He knew too Aro the Kingmaker was dead as well, and had heard whispers that others were missing.

Edward and Bella filled in the blanks, telling the story of their forced marriage and all they'd been through together. Bella blushed when Emmett beamed with pride, hearing what she'd done to the king.

"I've dreamed long and often of what King Felix deserved to suffer for what he's done to our family alone," Emmett said. He took her hands in his, looking her in the eyes with an expression Bella hadn't ever seen on his face, all grief and sorrow. "Little sister… Bella. I don't know how to ask your forgiveness for what you've suffered. I should have tried noon and night, done anything to get you away from there."

Bella ducked her head. She hadn't told her brother half of what she'd been through, but that didn't matter now. "I've never blamed you, Emmy. It wasn't your fault. Not a moment of it. And you did kill the king. Without your dagger…" Bella shuddered. She knew what would have happened if she hadn't had Emmett's dagger in her hair.

"That will have to suffice to sate my bloodlust for the time being. Would that I could change the past." He sighed, squeezed her hands, and sat back, his expression more serious. "For now, though, I'll settle on ensuring our future."

He stood and looked to Edward, coming to stand before him. He offered his hand, and when Edward took it, he clasped it in a tight hold, speaking in a booming voice that could be heard by anyone near the tent. "I greet you now as a brother. You are my sister's husband, and that makes us family. You have my blessing."

It was a powerful message. Edward had been the recipient of many dark looks as he rode into camp. It was only the fact that he was with Emmett that had kept some of the soldiers from attacking; Bella knew that.

Edward nodded his head, standing and putting his hand around Emmett's. "Your acceptance means much to me. To us both. Thank you, brother." He bowed his head.

The men stepped apart, though neither sat. Emmett lowered his voice, though he could still be easily heard by those still in the tent. "Now, I must speak to you, Lord Masen of Casterly Port. These are troubling times, and your allegiances must be clear."

Bella watched as Edward held her brother's gaze. He drew his sword. Bella jumped. Emmett took a step back into a defensive posture, his hand on the hilt of his own sword. Others around the tent tensed in readiness.

Edward drove the sword into the ground and knelt to one knee, balancing on it. He bowed his head. "I swear fealty to you, Emmett Swan. I have nothing to promise you but my sword and my life. That, however, I give gladly to you in whatever you endeavor. My oath is my bond."

Bella's heart pounded out of control as she watched Emmett touch her husband's shoulder. "Rise, Lord Masen." His tone was grave though he seemed satisfied somehow. There was something approaching the old mischief she remembered dancing in his eyes. "I think you will find that you have more to bring to our cause than just your sword. Sit. Let us toast to our most productive alliance."

"Productive?" Edward resumed his seat beside Bella, his eyes curious on her brother.

"Yes. I have a plan," Emmett said, eyes gleaming.

* * *

 **A/N: Poor Edward got a little banged up, but he's okay.**

 **How are you guys?**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Mina says I have to warn you that this is 99% sure the penultimate chapter. Which is okay with me because I do love using the word penultimate.**

* * *

Edward woke out of habit in the early hours before dawn. He groaned, wondering why he was so sore. Then he remembered the beating he'd taken, and where he was.

Safe. In his brother-in-law's camp.

A soft sigh near his ear brought him further peace. He smiled, feeling the tickle of Bella's hair against his shoulder. She'd turned to him in the night and was curled against his back, her arm warm around his waist.

He turned in her arms, and she sighed, blinking awake. She offered him a sleepy smile and nuzzled his neck. When she splayed her hand wide against his chest, he couldn't stifle a moan quickly enough.

She touched him more gently and dropped soft kisses to his bruises. "I'm sorry."

"Well, if it's going to elicit this kind of response, I'll gladly take a few hits."

She harrumphed, but continued to kiss him until he forgot how much he ached. No sooner had he rolled over her, pressing down on her as their kisses became more ardent, did a stirring outside their tent draw their attention. They were able to pull apart, Edward rolling onto his back, before the bastard came in.

"Rise and shine, new recruits." Emmett's booming voice sent Edward and Bella scrambling upright. He stood in the entrance to their tent, looking down on them. He was quite the imposing figure, already fully dressed with his hands on his hips, his fine, blue cape hanging smartly behind him. "There will be no canoodling in my camp. It's clear I'm going to have to separate you for the morning."

Edward glanced to the side and saw Bella cover her flaming cheeks with her hands. She shook her head. "I'd forgotten just what a big pest you are." She got to her feet, making a face at her brother.

"I've been called worse, by kings and lords." He cocked his head, considering. "Though none quite as ferocious as you." He winked at her.

"I take it you require my presence this morning, Your Grace?" Edward asked, glancing about for his boots.

"Your husband is quite astute." Emmett turned to Edward. "Yes. It seems my lady wife has returned. I'd like you to accompany me to meet her. Her party is a few hours out yet."

Bella, who'd found Edward's boots and brought them to him, gasped and looked at her brother with eager eyes. "I'd like to meet your wife. Let me accompany you."

"There'll be time for that when we're all back at camp," Emmett said smoothly.

"Emmett—"

Edward put his arm around Bella's waist, pulling her against him. Clearly, she didn't yet recognize when her new king gave an order. "I'll be ready shortly, Your Grace."

Bella frowned, looking from her husband to her brother. She narrowed her eyes. "I see what you're doing. You needed an excuse to harass Edward out of my sight."

Emmett crossed his arms, staring Bella down. "He's well grown, Bella. I promise he'll survive without your protection for half a day's ride."

Edward probably should have felt irritated at the idea his seventeen-year-old wife thought she had to protect him. Even more so that she insisted on doing it in front of this young man—Edward's new king. Instead, he was rather charmed by the idea.

It was a surreal situation they found themselves in. If life hadn't gone so far off course, he would be nothing but this boy's elder, and only to be spoken to with utmost respect.

All things considered, though, he couldn't say he minded being under this man's thumb. Not after he'd been made subservient to his nephew—a man he'd known since he was a babe in swaddling clothes. Anyway, if there was one thing watching his father had taught him, it was that pride often got in the way of goodness.

Still, he was a man, and Emmett was addressing him as such, expecting him to be in control of his own actions. He took Bella by the arms and kissed her cheek chastely. "I'm sure I'll be fine in your brother's company." He turned to the side, keeping Bella in the shelter of his arms as he looked to Emmett. "Though it does raise the question of what you'd like Bella to do in the meantime with both of us gone."

The camp was, after all, filled to the brim with men who had left their wives at home. Men fought for many reasons, some because they were made to. Not all of them would be loyal to Emmett. Oh, they'd fight for him, but they might not think twice about leaving Bella alone just because she was his sister. Not all of them believed she was an unwilling captive, after all. She wouldn't like it, but she couldn't be left alone.

Emmett had already thought of all that, as he answered readily. He turned to his sister. "You could stay in my tent with Peter today. He—"

Bella was already shaking her head. "I don't wish to be minded like a child," she said, sounding as sour as Edward had predicted. "He'll only resent me if I have to sit in the corner while he deals with whatever comes up while you're away." She stood up straighter. "I can be of help. Show me to your wounded or to the cook. I'll pull my weight and be no one's burden."

"You're no burden," Emmett said. "But you're father's daughter through and through. Our wounded soldiers could always use a kind word or help writing to their loved ones. If it would please you, I'll introduce you to Sue. It may be gruesome work," he warned.

Bella nodded. "Anything you've seen, I can handle."

"Give us a few moments, and we'll both be ready, Your Grace," Edward said.

When Emmett left, Bella gave a short laugh. "I'll never get used to hearing you call him Your Grace." She shuddered. "Every time I hear those words, I think Felix is lurking."

Edward pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You know, if I had any say in the matter, I would take every memory of him from your mind and rid you of him forever." He brushed her hair back with a tender caress. "But it's a proper title, and one you should learn to use."

Bella arched an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Even Jane called her own son such, my love. Power is a fickle thing, especially in times of war. He can't be seen to be below anyone."

Bella swallowed hard, but she nodded with a small smile. "We're still playing a game of sorts, aren't we?"

His answering smile was wry. "So it goes for all lords and ladies." He pressed the tip of her nose playfully. "I quite remember a wise woman telling me that we are all someone's pawns. Yes, it's a game, but the players have shifted. We play for our own power and peace now. Not for anyone's gain but ours."

"You don't resent that my brother is including you in plans for his own gain?"

"Well, I trust your brother has your own best interests at heart, so it seems we have the same goal."

 _ **~0~**_

Emmett was quiet for a long while as they rode out. He appeared contemplative, but Edward noticed his sharp eyes drift over the edges of his camp as they passed. He thought it best to keep his peace and let his brother-in-law speak first.

It was only when they were beyond the edges of the camp that Emmett pulled his horse to a brisk step next to Edward's. He spoke without preamble. "The little girl who left Rainfall was a trusting sort. She wanted to believe the best of everyone."

Edward's lips quirked downward. "I remember that little girl. She was a bright presence at our court in those early days." His heart twisted, and he had to remind himself that his nephew had died slowly and painfully. "Are you implying that you don't take her word that you can trust me?"

"In my position, would you trust you?"

"No," Edward answered readily. "A man in your position shouldn't trust easily at all. To trust a Masen. A man twice your sister's age who took her as his own and on the small council to the king you challenged? Some will call you a fool for trusting me." He tilted his chin up to meet Emmett's gaze. "Yet, it's said that you're known for trusting your intuition even when supposedly wiser men tell you it's foolish. It took time to earn your sister's trust, but it was time I spent gladly because she deserved no less from her husband. I suspect you don't have that kind of time, though."

Emmett frowned. "You're right. I don't."

"So what does your gut tell you?"

When Emmett didn't speak for a full minute, Edward continued, treading carefully. "I know you and Bella spoke at length last night." Edward had given them the space to grieve their parents together and speak of their hidden little brothers. "I don't know what she told you, but perhaps enough to know I'm not the man I was before we wed. I was rather more apathetic. I did as I was bidden because, well...I suppose because I was comfortable enough."

"There was a time when you wouldn't follow an order if it was the wrong one." Emmett's glance was pointed.

"Yes, and it got me no small amount of grief throughout my life." His lips quirked. "Forever the black sheep of the Masen family. But the point of that was to say, particularly with the king and my father dead, I can think of no advantage of pretending friendship, let alone love, to Bella. You know what they think of her in the capital."

Emmett grimaced. "The word I have received is that Felix's younger brother has been crowned king. There's speculation that it's Jane running the kingdom as they scramble to replace your father."

Edward laughed, surprised. "Are you suggesting all of this is part of a plan between myself and Jane?" He shook his head. His heart aching out of habit if nothing else. "My sister hates me perhaps more than my father did. That was never a secret; she and my eldest brother blamed me for our mother's death, as I survived and she didn't, and it only got worse from there. Any love Alec had for me will have disappeared now. No, save for Bella, I am without family. I couldn't betray you even if I wanted to. I'd be dead before I got within five day's ride of the place."

"Well, in that case, I'll tell you the truth." Emmett reached out and clapped his shoulder. "My instinct tells me I spoke correctly last night. You are my brother, and you have a family with us."

Edward had to clear his throat to rid himself of the lump that had formed there. He'd known the night before, when Emmett accepted him so readily, that the man had to have had reservations. Yet, he had little choice to announce his acceptance, lest someone in camp decide it was better to slit the throat of the demon in their midst. "Then you'll tell me your plan? For the good of our family, my brother. My king."

Emmett grinned at him. "I wish for you to go home. Immediately."

Edward stared. "Home? You can't mean—"

"To Casterly Port? That's exactly what I mean."

"I killed the lord of Casterly Port."

"Which makes it yours by rights, your father being dead." Emmett waved a hand, getting Edward to shut up before he could protest again. "Your father took most of his fighting men to throw at my soldiers. It was a strong move for King Felix, but it left the people of the port chafing. Then, it had been nigh on five years since Aro last visited. As you know, Aro left his land in Lord Caius's hands. The man is good with money, I'll give him that, but he doesn't have an ounce of the charisma your father had."

"If my people were upset that my father all but abandoned them, what will they think of me? I've been gone longer."

"You're a Masen which still counts for much. And the fact you had a hand in killing the king may yet play well."

"How?"

Emmett flashed him a grin again. "Casterly Port is closer to the Midlands than anything, and only barely loyal to the maniac king. Neither Felix nor his father did much to benefit them, and yet demanded the service of all their own royal family.

"So my proposal is simple. You simply stride in as though you own the place. Which you do. You'll have your home, and I'll have a Midlands port."

Edward scoffed when he realized Emmett was serious. "There are less drastic ways of getting me killed."

"I have no intention of getting you killed. In fact, I fully intend to send Bella with you."

"What?" Edward tensed.

"You'll arrive dressed in finery that suits your station. Bella too. We have a trunk with dresses and the like that'll do. You'll go in through the front gate. It won't be so difficult to get your people to welcome their native son." Emmett's grin widened. "Particularly with a small army at his back. You'll tell Caius you're there to claim your birthright, and you'll tell your people that your family became entrenched with the evil that is the Volturi family, as evidenced by your father's abandonment." Emmett's grin fell into a hard, angry line. "And the fact the king attacked your wife, forcing her to defend herself."

It was an incredible plan. It wasn't as though Edward couldn't see the merits. Often enough these last few years, he'd heard his father mutter when he received correspondence from Caius about the goings on at home. "They'll see the good of it in the long run." Aro had always believed that his people, like his children, would fall in line.

"Honor is a strange thing to a great many people," Edward said. "My reputation has been one of cowardice since I was not much older than you are now. Whether or not they despised him, I killed my father. There's no honor in that."

"Yet, you were defending your wife's honor. That's something they can be made to understand." Emmett paused, looking thoughtful. "My father told me that the common people need only reassurance. If you speak with enough confidence, they'll believe what you say. You may have no specific love for your people, Edward, but I doubt you'd want them to come to any harm."

"Of course not."

"Then that message will come through to them. And you may trust that I have no intention of letting those people come to harm either. They'll see the advantage of having someone give a damn about them again." He looked to Edward, his face sincere. "It's not the first time a son overthrows his father by force, and it shall not be the last. You have good reason."

Edward thought this through. "You mean to say I may yet be able to bring my wife to a home she may call her own? To have the means to provide for my family?"

"To have an ally in Casterly Port would only benefit my cause. I wouldn't be a threat to you," Emmett said. "Not ever, and you have the promise of my ongoing protection. My men are near enough to protect the city should the need arise."

Edward was quiet again for many long minutes. "Then, there's no time to waste. If Caius hasn't already made a play for the city, he will soon."

"I agree." Emmett offered his hand, and when they shook, he smiled. "You know, it wasn't only Bella's word I took to know whether or not I could trust you."

"Oh?"

"My father said you were the only one of House Masen that he genuinely liked. He said you were wiser than anyone gave you credit for, and if only your brother-in-law had listened to you, you could have made the kingdom a better place." He paused, and for a moment, Edward caught a glimpse of the scared boy he had to be on some level. He was far, far too young to be leading this kind of campaign. He had to, at least, feel out of his depth, even if he didn't act on it. "All of this got so far out of hand, but I don't know what else to do but win. If I win, then my men and every province they hail from expect me to be king.

"Should that day come to pass, brother, I will not make the same mistake Felix's father did. I hope this is the beginning of a great partnership."

Edward couldn't help but sit up straighter in the saddle. He'd never really let himself acknowledge the ache he'd felt that his family dismissed him as easily as they did. He was unexpectedly overwhelmed by emotion at just how far Emmett's trust went. "It would be a great honor, second only to being Bella's husband."

* * *

 **A/N: Mina says it's weird for me to listen to her reactions as she reads. Hehe.**

 **Ahem.**

 **How is everyone?**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Let's see how how this all turns out.**

* * *

Bella was torn. She wanted very much for Rosalie of House Hale to like her. Though the marriage had been arranged, like most of their gentry, to strengthen allegiances, Emmett was quite obviously fond of his wife. He'd told Bella in confidence that he thought their marriage was much like that of his and Bella's parents. They were strangers, indifferent to each other at first, who'd found enough common ground to genuinely enjoy each other.

Among other things, Rosalie was shrewd and brave. She never once balked at being afield with her husband. This latest trip wasn't the first time she'd acted as emissary, speaking to other nobles on Emmett's behalf.

Beyond that, Bella had always wanted a sister. Her family had been decimated. There was some hope in her that, when this madness finally ended, they might find some semblance of what they'd once had. It could never been what it should have been, but then again, she wouldn't have Edward if all had been well in the world.

Therein lay her predicament. Edward was the one and only gift this mess had left her with. She loved her husband, and would gladly kill to protect him. It wasn't a helpful thought when the person currently antagonizing him was her sister-in-law.

Edward had told Bella gently but firmly that he could handle Rosalie. Thus, she was regulated to standing off to the side as Rosalie interrogated him. Bella had to remind herself that she should not challenge her husband in front of others.

"What is that look on your face, little sister?" Emmett came to sit beside her and handed her a glass.

Taking it from him, she nodded her head in Edward and Rosalie's direction. "I was considering the fact that it seems I'm destined to have intimidating sisters-in-law."

Emmett scoffed. "Rosalie and Jane. That's a battle I'd pay good coin to see."

Bella shuddered, and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't care to have Jane near any of her loved ones, though she supposed that eventuality was inevitable. "And neither of them like Edward very much," she said, trying to joke. "You did tell your wife she could trust my husband, didn't you?"

"You were there when I did." Emmett looked both bemused and charmed as he watched the verbal sparring match. "It's a good union between us, but we're working on the part where she trusts my judgment in all things." He glanced at Bella and smiled, his eyes sad. "She cannot fathom that he hasn't taken advantage of you."

Despite the fact she felt protective of Edward, Bella had recognized that Rosalie was furious on her behalf. When they were introduced, Rosalie had smoothed her hair and hugged her close, murmuring quiet comforts in her ear.

A wave of dizziness washed over Bella as her memories took her back to things she'd tried hard not to think about. She put a hand to her temple, bowing her head.

"Bella?" Emmett put a hand to her back. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she said, her voice shaky. "Just...there are too many things I'd rather not have in my head."

He scoffed. "Yes, that I understand." Taking her wrist gently, he raised the hand with the glass. "Take a drink. It'll help."

Bella obediently raised the glass to her lips and sipped. She nearly choked, expecting water and getting spirits instead. "Now isn't the time for your pranks," she said, somewhat irritated.

Emmett raised an eyebrow. "We are, you and I, no longer children. I figured you could use a spot before we break up this match." He nodded in the direction of their spouses.

Bella ducked her head. Here her brother was attempting to treat her as a grown woman, and she had snapped at him. Chastised, she took another sip, managing not to wince. "Well, I'm not sure we're the ones who need it most."

With that, Bella stood and went to Edward under the guise of a dutiful wife bringing her husband refreshment. She stepped to his side, wrapping his fingers around the goblet.

He turned to her, some of the tension draining from his features. "Thank you, My Lady. You are, as ever, good to me."

"A favor My Lord returns," Bella said pointedly, tilting her head up.

Edward smiled wider as he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "I was trying to assure our new sister of exactly that."

Rosalie grimaced. "You'll pardon me if I know better than to trust the silver Masen tongue. Your family is well known for their scheming. It's what makes you valuable to the royal family."

"Precisely, and I have publicly recognized this royal family." He gestured between her and Emmett.

"Your Grace. Sister, I can assure you My Lord is sincere both in his loyalty to my brother and his affection to me," Bella said, coming to take Rosalie's hand. "He would never do anything to harm me."

As she spoke, the scent of Rosalie's perfume wafted under her nose. It caught her off guard. The strength of it set her head spinning again, and she fainted dead away.

 **~0~**

When she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the tent with only Rosalie at her side. The other woman looked displeased. Bella's stomach twisted.

"What did I do?" she whispered.

"Oh, Bella." Rosalie rested a cool, damp cloth over her forehead. " _You_ didn't do a thing, lovey."

"Then what happened?" Her mind became increasingly less muddled. "Where is my husband?"

"With Emmett, outside." Rosalie pushed her gently back down when Bella tried to rise. "We've something to discuss first. How long has it been since your courses last came on you?"

She said the words with such tender compassion that Bella didn't process them at first. When she was sure she'd heard right—it was such a personal question—she reckoned back for the answer. When she remembered, she gasped quietly. "Oh," she said, her voice barely a breath. "Oh!" She sat up straight and put her hands to her mouth.

Rosalie squeezed her shoulders. "It'll be—"

She cut off when Bella giggled. Bella tried to stop, but her emotions spiraled, this time in the most wonderful way. Rosalie watched her, her look skeptical at first, but then she smiled. She took Bella's hands. "This is happy news, then."

"I… Well…" Bella flushed hot. "It's a frightening and uncertain time, but this is as it should be, is it not? This is right?" Despite herself, she searched her new sister's eyes, desperate for the assurance her mother would have given in such a time.

Rosalie's smile grew wider, and she put a hand to Bella's cheek. "You love your husband. Well and truly."

"Yes," Bella said instantly, surprised at the question. It was impertinent to say the least, and many nobles would have said it was beside the point regardless. Love was for peasants.

Rosalie nodded. "I thought perhaps you were determined to do your duty. Marriage, though arranged by man, is supposedly sanctioned by the gods. But then again, the gods supposedly put that tyrant in control, and you took care of that, didn't you?" She patted Bella's cheek. "Your husband has earned my trust then. No woman is glad to bear a brute's child, after all. I shall fetch him, and you may tell him the happy news."

She stood and hurried to the entrance of the tent before Bella could say another word. Her heart beat faster as she heard Edward's frightened voice.

"At your ease, brother," Rosalie said sounding amused now. "There's nothing wrong with our Bella that won't be resolved in good time. Go tend to your wife, My Lord."

Edward darted to her side then, his face pinched with worry. He fell to his knees at her pallet and took her hands in his. "What is it, beloved? What's wrong?"

"Shhh." Bella's voice trembled, and she knew she was shaking. Her face too was clammy, and Edward's concern only grew when he cupped her cheek. "Well, if all goes right when we get to Casterly Port…" She took a deep breath. It was ridiculous that she felt so shy. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes. "You may tell your people that they will soon have a little lord to spoil."

Edward's eyebrows furrowed. Then, they arched to his hairline in surprise. He sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "A child?" he asked in a whisper.

She nodded, watching his face. She wanted to smile, but not until she saw his.

He didn't smile. He beamed. He looked down and spread a hand over her flat belly with a look of reverence on his face she'd never seen. Finally, he looked up to her. "It was some weeks ago, then?"

Bella laughed—a giddy, fluttery sound. She put her hand over his. A child conceived in total freedom, when they were not a lord and lady, but two lovers who only need be concerned with each other.

Edward put two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up so he could kiss her. It was a soft but fervent kiss. Sweet yet deep. She sighed, melting against him.

When their kiss broke, his breath was hot against her face. "Gods, I do love you, Bella," he whispered. "I didn't know. I couldn't fathom life could be like this."

She snorted but, pleased, ducked her head against his neck. "Like what? Running from all you've ever known? Getting involved with an upstart who has no business being a king."

He chuckled. "Such is life." He put his hand back to her belly. "There can be so much pain and suffering. But such beauty too."

"We are beautiful."

 _ **~Edward~**_

"Are you ready for this, Lord Edward?"

Edward scoffed. His eyes were trained on the high walls of his childhood home. They looked intimidating now in a way they never had before. For good reason. If Emmett's men were to attack head on they'd win, but at a great loss. It was why Emmett had never tried to take the port.

Despite his misgivings about what was about to transpire, when he turned to his king, he smiled with the air of a much more confident man. "Since when has being ready ever done anything for anyone? We simply get things done regardless."

"That's as good a strategy as any I've heard," Emmett said, flashing an equally faux-confident grin back at him. "Shall we?"

Edward looked to his side, and reached out his hand. Beside him, his wife looked like a dream. She was, as Emmett promised, dressed in finery befitting a great lady. Rouge covered the worst of her pique, poor, queasy darling. Bella took his hand and he squeezed her fingers. "I'll be back to you shortly."

She looked worried, but like Edward and her brother, she pretended confidence. "Be safe, My Lord."

Emmett's army stopped a good distance from the main gates, well within view. The standing army of Casterly Port watched from the walls, armed and ready for their orders. They wouldn't attack, Edward knew. Not while Emmett's army was right outside their gate. Still, he knew their arrows were trained right at his chest.

He pulled his horse to a stop and called up to the guard. "Has it truly been so long, or do you not recognize a son of Casterly Port."

There was a commotion, and Caius pushed to the front of the guard. He set his hands on the wall, leaning over it slightly, a scowl on his face. "I recognize the filth who has murdered the great lord of this place. How dare you come here, dog?"

Edward lifted his head high. Rather than address Caius, he addressed the men at the wall. "Countrymen. Long have you languished here without the benefit of fit leadership."

"How dare you? You—"

Edward ignored Caius's protest and pushed forward. "My father left you so many years ago on your own to serve the whims of an unjust king. You can see I come with friends and the promise of a brighter future under a new king. A king who will not ignore your plight anymore than I will. There is, I know, no reason for you to trust me. So I ask, as the rightful heir of Casterly Port, that you listen to me. If you don't like what I have to say, by all means, I swear to you I will leave you in peace. But if I do, you will be subject to Volturi rule once again."

"Let you and your army in the door?" Caius scoffed. "No one here is that foolish. You insult these fine men."

"No tricks. I—"

"This from a coward?" One of the guard—the captain, by his dress—shouted. "Tell me, coward. Will you stab Lord Caius in the back as you did your father."

"I stabbed my father in his chest," he said in a practiced tone that betrayed neither his shame nor his horror. He hopped off his horse, letting his cloak slide to the ground. "You think me a coward? Fine. Come down, and best me in a fight. One on one. Or, if you prefer, send your best fighter."

A murmur went through the guard. Peasants were beginning to gather at the gate, staring at the spectacle.

"Not just to prove my bravery, but I mean to protect our people," Edward said the captain. "And I'm willing to spill my own blood to do it." He let that set in for a few moments before he spoke again. "Captain, tell me. Would the lord you currently serve so much as dirty his fine clothes in the name of our people?"

He let his stance slip into a more open one and gestured behind him. "I have no desire to leave my wife without her husband." In spite of himself, his lips quirked up at the corner. "Nor my son without a father. Nor my people without a lord who has their best interest at heart. Open the gate, Captain. Our great city has a bright future ahead."

"This is madness," Caius snarled. "I—"

"My Lord Edward. Bring your bride and her brother," the captain said. "Bring them alone, and perhaps we have something to say to each other."

"Captain. This is treason," Caius insisted.

"No, My Lord. I am pledged to House Masen. The queen mother has not yet sent so much as a word."

"The kingdom is in turmoil! This dog's bitch has murdered our king."

"And before that, our departed Lord Masen had likewise sought to look to the higher kingdom, leaving us to languish." The captain shook his head. "No, My Lord. If there is a Lord of House Masen left to serve, I must know." He looked to Edward and nodded. "I'll meet you at the gate, Lord Edward."

Edward nodded at the captain. He turned to see Emmett in conference with Peter. After a minute, he rode to Bella's side, and together, they went to join Edward.

 **~0~**

Eleazar, Captain of the Guard of Casterly Port, sat quietly in his chair for a long while after Edward and Emmett made their case. He took a deep breath as he looked to Edward first.

"I feel, My Lord, it would be remiss not to say we may well have been having a very different conversation had your father survived that night. Lord Aro was many things, but the realm may have fared well if he were there to guide Demetri as he tried to guide Felix."

Edward glanced at his wife. She looked back, as nervous as he felt. He rested his hand on her knee and said nothing, watching as Eleazar stood and began to pace.

Emmett cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, Captain, I don't disagree. My quarrel may well have never begun had it been young Demetri who ascended to the throne. Nevertheless, Lord Aro left his own people to languish while the maniac king spilled blood across the land."

Eleazar smiled. "I'd heard it from some that the young King Swan was smarter than the stories would have me believe. It's true Lord Aro had not as much power as he wished, I think." Eleazar shook his head. "And our Lady Jane is vengeful, and she acts on a whim to satisfy her own vanity. I believe there is no good to come of the current rule, and I must act according to my own conscience."

"Captain—" Caius tried, but Eleazar raised a hand to stop him.

Taking another breath, Eleazar took a knee before Edward and bowed his head. "I renew my pledge to the Lord of House Masen. I vow to serve to the best of my ability, and follow your command."

"Rise, my friend." Edward likewise got to his feet and offered his hand. "I will rely on your council most heavily."

They shook, and Eleazar turned to Emmett who was also standing. He bowed low. "Your Grace. I will serve you as My Lord requires. I'm proud to serve you, King Emmett of House Swan, First of His Name."

Edward noticed that Bella covered a smile, hearing the full title for the first time. Emmett looked as queasy as his sister for a moment, but he clapped Eleazar's shoulder.

Edward privately hoped his wife would get used to hearing her brother referred to as such. The man had just orchestrated the taking of Casterly Port without a single life lost.

 **~0~**

Some weeks later, life looked very different.

Emmett and his army, having left a garrison in place as promised, moved on. Carlisle, Jasper, and their families had made their way to Casterly Port where Carlisle would establish his new home.

Edward had yet to get used to the life of a proper lord. He heard petitions, and took care of his city. He received correspondence from Emmett on a weekly basis. The lad made good on his promise to keep Edward amongst his closest council.

Ironically, it seemed that Edward would fall naturally into his father's footsteps. He was one of the most powerful men in the realm, heir to his family's riches with a respected name. When Emmett ascended the throne, and all signs pointed to that eventuality, Edward would be Hand of the King. The king-maker, as Aro had been.

"I like watching you with your people," Bella said, helping him out of his cloak. "You're so very regal, My Lord."

She had a smile on he quite enjoyed. It was a smile he'd only begun to see recently as she accepted that she was safe and that this was her home.

"Your people are quickly coming to adore you," she said, handing his cloak to his valet. "Though not at as much as I do, of course." She ruffled his hair, finger combing it into an acceptable arrangement.

He caught her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. He kissed her skin and then wrapped an arm around her, bringing her up against him. He let his fingertips brush over her cheek, traced the shape of her lips. " _Our_ people adore you too, My lady. Perhaps more than they do their native son."

It was true. They showered her with gifts every day. And why shouldn't they? Bella was young, vivacious, kind, and the sister of their new high king. Soon, she would bear them a little lordling who would have their heart from the moment of his birth.

"Are you happy here, Bella?" he asked, swaying them gently. "Are you happy to call this your home?"

Her smile was serene and lovely. She looped her arms around his neck, biting her lip in that way young people did when they were giddy and so in love. It made Edward's blood tingle in his veins to see that look on her face. "I am happy," she whispered, brushing the tip of her nose against his. "So much happier than I ever thought I would be. Do you know, husband, that I think you have given me all my dreams?"

"How so, beloved?"

She kissed his lips sweetly. "I told you once. I dreamed I would marry a handsome, kind Lord." She took his face in her hands and grinned. "Have you seen your face lately?"

Edward's lip twitched.

"And I told you, I also wanted to do as my brothers would. To learn to wield swords and bows." She gasped with pleasure. "Oh, Edward. I like shooting bows."

He chuckled. "I know you do. You're good at it." He put his hand to her belly, filled with wonder as usual as he felt the swell there. "You'll have to stop soon," he said gently. "For a time. The people are superstitious about their little lordling. They'll worry."

"Oh, yes. _They're_ the ones who will worry." She kissed him again. "I'm happy, Edward. So very happy."

"I am too, you know." He led her to their bed and sat, pulling her onto his lap. He settled her between his legs and cupped his hands over her belly, feeling the shape of their son. "It never occurred to me to have dreams. Better to live without wanting things that could be taken away. My father taught me that lesson early in life. And if I had dreamed, I would not have had the temerity to dream of this. Of you."

He sighed, resting his head against hers. "No, Bella. I think if my father knew what he was giving me, in forcing this union on us, he would never have done it. I'm happy." He laughed. "And we inadvertently changed the fate of the realm, didn't we?"

"We among others."

"Writing history." He sighed and kissed her hair. "So it goes."

 _ **~The End~**_

 _ **A/N: Yes, I will write a futuretake that gives us a glimpse of Emmett's reign.**_

 _ **So many thanks to Packy, Betsy, MoH, Eleanor, and Mina for everything they do for me. Thank you all for coming along on this journey. I know it was rougher than many.**_

 _ **Many hearts.**_


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hola, my doves. Here's a little futuretake that should answer some lingering questions for you.**

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Edward was strolling down the long hallway at a lordly pace when he heard the unmistakable sound of his wife yelling. He picked up his pace, dashing forward until he'd reached his destination—his estate's west wing.

Entering a set of three conjoined rooms, one functioning as a sort of office, Edward found his wife, her face twisted with rage as she railed at her eldest brother. "You've sold my child away like nothing. Like chattel," she fumed, hand pressed to her nine-months gone belly.

Emmett looked exasperated. "Bella, you're exaggerating."

"Oh, hells," Edward muttered under his breath. That was the exact wrong thing to say.

Sure enough, Bella's face had gone bright red. She took a step forward and shoved a finger right in her brother's face. "Emmett Swan, I swear you come anywhere near my child, and I will end you. I've killed one king already. Don't think I won't kill you."

With that, she whirled and strode from the room, fury giving her a surprising amount of grace for someone so ponderously pregnant. She was so angry she didn't even see him as she marched past him.

Emmett groaned and slumped in his seat, covering his face with his hands. For a moment, he looked like a pouting, overgrown boy. Edward glanced over his shoulder but saw that Bella's handmaid had gone after her mistress already. So, Edward cleared his throat to alert the king to his presence.

"Ah." Emmett grimaced but sat up straighter. "Lord Edward."

"Your Grace." Edward gave a nod of his head as a bow.

"No doubt you've come to threaten my person as well after seeing the state your wife was in." He gestured to the seat across from him.

Edward sat and offered his brother-in-law a small smile. "If I threatened every man who left my wife in that state of late, I would be obligated to castrate myself. Although, I'm not sure that's an idea I want crossing Bella's path. She'd be prone to take me up on that offer given her current condition."

Emmett snorted. He made a gesture, and his page boy came up to pour them both a cup of strong wine. He drank heartily, and Edward joined him. He had a feeling he'd need the fortification.

"I am, however, curious as to what you said and what it has to do with my child," he said, keeping his tone easy.

Emmett sighed, drumming his fingertips on the desktop and looking out the window. "I spoke out of turn. I shouldn't have told Bella anything without coming to you first. After all, it's only by your leave that anything at all will happen, but it just slipped out."

It was a credit to how Emmett saw himself that he said anything was Edward's choice. His orders would be obeyed, and they both knew it. However, Emmett prefered to keep his direct orders to a minimum. "And by anything at all, you mean…"

Emmett turned to look at him, his expression cautious. "We're close to bringing House Denali into our fold. Lord Eleazar has a son of four years old."

Edward raised his chin, understanding instantly what had probably happened. "And if you were to promise him a match with the high House Masen…"

Emmett nodded. "Exactly." He spread a hand wide. "These are murmurings at best. I was just speaking out loud, and my sister is talking like I don't adore my niece. I love that little girl, Edward. You know I'd do nothing to harm her. You know I wouldn't even ponder if it wasn't in her best interests, but how can we know at this point what those are? Who's to say for certain?

"It's an informal betrothal at best. To be reevaluated as time presents itself. Anything could happen between now and then. Situations change, and the agreement would have to be stricken. The boy could die. Gods forbid, but it's possible."

"Or Nicolette may go from her home to her betrothed's home at fourteen only to learn afterward that he is a sadistic, tyrannical ass and then live under his thumb with no hope of escape, being abused for years until finally being tossed at his much older, black sheep of an uncle as though she were trash. Valuable trash, but trash nonetheless."

Emmett made a face. He stood, goblet in hand and paced to the window, staring out at the sea. "Should I employ a fortune teller for some form of guidance, then? Who else may say for certain what the future holds?"

Edward was quiet at that. He sipped his wine and considered his words. "Lord Eleazar is a good man. He's kind and more even-headed than many. I expect he is raising his little Vasilii to be as good a man as he is." He took a deep breath and spoke quietly. "It's a fine match, Your Grace, and a good plan. I had thought to offer a marriage pact to the Denali family already. They're not an old family, but rising quickly. To have their family name tied to one of the great houses would be just the boon they're looking for."

"But you hadn't thought to offer your own House." Emmett didn't ask. He turned and quirked a curious eyebrow, though.

"Well." Edward swirled the wine, watching it circle for a moment. "I suffer from a father's bias. Nicolette is so young, the idea of sending her so far away is as abhorrent to me as it clearly is to Bella." He flexed the fist of his free hand convulsively. His inside roared as loudly as Bella had. Send his little darling away from him? Only over his and the king's dead bodies.

"However, every Lord and Lady has a part to play in our history," Edward continued. "Whether or not I wish it, my duty as a father dictates that I make a fine match for my daughter." He looked to his brother-in-law. "That, and I knew well enough what her fate would be when I agreed we should make Casterly Port the capital of the realm. To share my city with you is an honor. To share my home while your palace is being built is my privilege. Don't think for a moment I don't understand what you did for my name."

When Emmett had secured his claim to power, declaring himself king of the realm, by all rights, the Masen name should have been dirt. Aro, of course, had been the puppeteer behind King Felix, and most of the realm had known it. Jane, both as Queen and reagent after Felix died, had been well known for her cruelty—more subtle than her son's but no less capricious and petty. She'd been taken captive, tried for her crimes, and beheaded. Alec had lead the final charge and had died by Emmett's own sword.

Then, Edward. The people of Casterly Port had accepted him as the rightful heir, but that didn't mean his name had been what it once was. Volterra had been all but destroyed in the final fight, and so when deciding on a city for his throne, Emmett had declared it was much more rational to rule from the center of the realm, not the bottom.

The city still belonged to House Masen. House Swan was elevated to the highest in the land, and House Masen kept its place as the second most powerful family. Edward was hand of the king; his most trusted advisor.

He'd known then that it meant Nicolette would be a particularly valuable match to any Lord's son, second only to any daughters the king would have. At the time the decision had been made, his daughter was hardly more than a baby, not even walking yet. At nearly four years old, she was still young, but many Lords and Ladies grew up knowing to whom they'd be wed.

Edward nodded. "I shall extend an invitation to Lord Eleazar that he might visit in three months time. By then, Bella will be recovered, and we may all agree on terms."

Emmett studied him a long moment. "And my sister?"

"Your sister has a good head on her shoulders. She knows all of this as well as you and I do."

Emmett polished off his wine and waved the page boy away when he attempted to pour another drink. "I don't envy you, brother. Thank the Gods, my Rose has given me two fine princes. My life as a father is much different than yours."

"Yes, well, you may be singing a different tune come next Spring, or so I hear."

At that, Emmett grinned. "I shouldn't be surprised anymore at how much you know even when you're not supposed to know. We've not told anyone."

"I'm observant, that's all. Congratulations." Emmett and Rosalie's first son had been born six months after Nicolette. Their second son had been born a year later. An heir and a spare. A blessing, of course, but also exactly what a brand new king needed. His lineage was secure, and so the minds and hearts of the common people were at peace with the regime change.

"If there's no pressing business at this time, Your Grace, I shall go speak to Bella."

"Of course." Emmett tilted his head. "I do love Nic, Edward. You know this, right?"

Edward smiled. Nicolette cared not at all that her uncle was the king of all the land. To her, he was her favorite playmate. No one could toss her higher, and he was more fun to climb than her own father. "He's more taller, Papa," she had said.

"And you know your niece returns your affections. Worry not, my king. Bella knows full well what your intentions are." He put a hand to Emmett's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "It falls on you to make decisions for far too many people. This game, Your Grace, is a delicate one. You do what you must to keep the balance of power. Always walking such a fine line. We're your subjects. We shall play our part."

Emmett smiled and nodded at him. Edward nodded back and took his leave.

Once in the hallway, his step quickened. Regardless of his words, he wasn't sanguine with the idea of signing away his daughter's future. He had a desperate need to see his family, to have them safe in his arms again. Only then could he convince himself he wouldn't have to send his precious jewel away so soon.

It wasn't difficult to find Bella. When they'd arrived for good, they'd found, as Edward expected, Caius had kept his property in good order. The only thing he found in shambles were the once-beautiful gardens. Bella had made it her task to restore and improve them.

He found his wife where he expected on a beautiful, shady porch that looked out over a wide expanse of grass. She sat at a table, her arms propped up and her face in her hands. He could tell by the up and down movement of her shoulders that she wasn't crying.

But she had been, he realized as he sat across from her. He could see her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks splotchy. Only experience kept him in his seat. Bella toward the end of her pregnancy was a volatile creature. There were times she couldn't stand to be touched. Instead, he laid his hand palm up on the table between them as an offering.

To his relief, she took it, squeezing tightly as she shut her eyes. "Hush now, my darling," he whispered in the same soothing tone he used when she woke from terrible nightmares. "You're all right."

She sniffled and opened her eyes. "If I had said such a thing to any other king, he would have my head on a spike." She sighed. "I used to be good at surviving."

Edward reached out and cupped her cheek. "You know, in your heart of hearts, that you're safe now, beloved. You may lash out at this king without worry of reprisal."

Bella shivered. "Safe," she said, exhaling a long breath. "Are we safe? The realm is, as of yet, unstable."

"So it shall always be to some extent." He stroked his thumb under her eye, wiping away the remnants of her tears. "There is no such thing as complete safety. You have more cause than most to understand that, but it's a much different world our children will inherit."

Bella was quiet at that. She stared out across the lawn to where their daughter played with Alice and Jasper's daughter, Nettie, under the watchful eye of Esme Cullen.

Now that he was certain she was centered and calm, Edward stood. He helped his wife to her feet and guided her to the lounge. He sat first, spreading his legs wide on either side. She settled herself between them, leaning back against his chest. She sighed, and something in Edward grew peaceful.

They liked to sit like this. She felt safest, she'd told him once, when he surrounded her like this, ensconcing her in his warmth. He liked holding her close. He liked to be able to kiss her hair, and he especially loved it now, when he could cup her big, rounded belly in his hands. Their son moved as though to greet him, and Edward smiled.

He sighed, breathing her in before he spoke. "So it comes to pass that I am in what was once my father's position, with so many people as my pawns, for better or worse. At my direction, men may ride into battle. At my command, disputes are settled and criminals are sentenced to death.

"Then, there is you." Edward stroked her hair back over one shoulder so he could kiss the skin near her ear. "You and my children." Resting his head against hers, he looked out to where his darling Nicolette played.

His beautiful little girl. He watched, amused, as Nicolette, heedless of her pretty dress, leaped up to grab the branch of a tree. She hauled herself up despite Esme's vehement protests. Edward chuckled. "I think, my lovely wife, that it can be no wonder that Nic was made in a field when we were not tethered by our station. I do worry for her happiness. She has your spirit, but will she be content to her duty?"

Bella scoffed. "That child will be the death of me before she can come of age regardless. She's not a child of the fields. She's part cat—too stealthy and wild to be tamed."

"Yes," Edward said, smiling fondly. He sighed again. "And yet it's my duty to find her a good match."

Bella stiffened in his hold but said nothing. Edward chose his words carefully. "We'll play host to Eleazar and his family in three months time so that we may meet them and come to know them. I've met Eleazar, and his father before him. They're a good sort."

"So you approve, then, of the match Emmett suggested." Her voice was tight and controlled.

"I don't know yet." He paused a beat. "She'll have to be betrothed to someone, my love."

"I wasn't betrothed until I was thirteen."

"Yes. When the king cast his attention on your father, and therefore, your family came into more power." He hugged her tightly. "To be honest, it's a surprise that the squabbling hasn't started sooner. Jane was promised straight out of her crib."

Bella made a disgruntled noise, but she took a steadying breath. "I know. I just wish…"

She didn't finish her sentence, and he didn't need her to. He kissed her hair. "I know." They stayed quiet for a long moment. "You must know I would die before I let anything like what happened to you happen to our daughter."

"I do know." Bella shuddered. "My father died much the same way."

"Yes, but that is not at all typical. Felix"—he spat the name through gritted teeth—"was not typical in any respect. Not for any man, king or otherwise." He took a deep breath, trying to dispel his tension and worry for his daughter. "Most men are not monsters and most marriages aren't miserable. It works out well enough. Did not your mother marry your father having only known him face to face for two days?"

"Yes, and they loved each other well."

"So it goes for your brother and Rosalie. They're quite happy."

"Yes." Bella turned her head and nuzzled his cheek. "And I'm so very happy with you, My Lord."

Edward smiled and his chest went warm. Still, considering, he tensed ever so slightly. "You know you're a gift I never deserved, Bella. But that being said, I would not wish the terms of our union on the daughter of a sworn enemy, let alone my own precious girl."

"Of course not. I'm merely saying that I do know she has every chance of being just fine. If we managed to live happily ever after given the hell we went through, Nic will have a beautiful life." Her hand found his knee and she patted him. "You're not your father, Edward. He didn't care about his children's happiness, nor even his people. He cared only for power. While you recognize that power keeps us and our dear ones safe, I'll never believe you would put that over your family's well-being and happiness." She put her hands over his on her belly. "It's not so bad to know your life is lived at the whim and will of a man when you trust that man with everything."

He rocked her in his arms. "May I never stop earning your trust, my brilliant wife."

He kissed her then. It was a long kiss—slow and deep. "You're my soul, Bella," he murmured against her lips. "And my children, the beautiful children you've given me, are my heart." He kissed her, and swallowed the whimper that vibrated against his lips.

"Papa! You are eating Momma again," a tiny voice admonished.

Edward and Bella broke their kiss. Edward grinned, watching as his daughter climbed onto the lounge. She settled in that way children do, finding space where none existed until she was likewise cradled in her father's arms.

"Maybe I should eat you instead." He rained kisses on her face so she squealed.

Bella hissed in pain, and Edward curled an arm around his daughter, stilling her movements. "Sorry, love," he said.

"No. It wasn't you." Bella winced, rubbing at a spot on her side. "It was the baby."

Nicolette shifted again until she could put her ear against Bella's stomach. She listened intently. "No hurt Momma. It's not nice, Brother." She was quite insistent that the baby just had to be a boy, as she had informed them she had no desire for sisters. But then, everyone referred to the baby as they'd referred to her before she was born—a little lord.

By then, Esme—little Nettie at her hip—had caught up. Her smile was, as always, gentle. "Your little hellion is very fast. It's a shame she may not enter the running games at the festival. I can bet she would best any man out there when she's old enough."

Esme was delighted with Edward's forward thought, allowing both his wife and daughter to 'play' with swords and the like. Though he was often terrified Nic would break her neck, he didn't mind that she was rambunctious.

Edward tilted his head at Esme. "You're still joining us for dinner, yes? You and everyone?"

While Edward and Bella gave many dinners for many important people, he looked forward to none as much as he liked entertaining the Cullen family. Emmett, again, no fool, had taken Carlisle into his confidences just as the Volturi family had, but he and Edward remained true friends.

Their visits had become even more frequent of late, which was what Esme was doing here in the first place. Though she didn't say it—his wife was a very strong woman—Edward knew she liked having the older woman around. Especially when she was so close to the birth, Bella needed a mother with her.

"Of course, My Lord," Esme said with a smile. "We'll all be there."

Edward nodded, quite content.

It was a good life.

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 **A/N: And so, we say goodbye to these kiddos.**

 **Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you for all your feedback and support. It all means more to me than you can know. Even negative feedback helps. Thank you. Hearts.**


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